The Rats
by Mitie Mouse
Summary: An unknown, ancient, mysterious force of evil invades Hogwarts...Will Hogwarts be no more? After forever and a day, CHAPTER 9 IS HERE! YAY! The First Encounter. Now it really gets good! And what's happening between R/Hr anyway?
1. The Coming of the Rats (and other evil t...

A/N : Ok, so it's a little weird, but I had this idea from a dream, and I thought it might be kinda interesting to sort of.write my own little short 5th book since the real one is taking FOREVER! I think you all know the characters (what are you doing in the Harry Potter section if you don't?!) and, no they don't belong to me. Besides the plot and new, minor characters, I had nothing to do with the creation of the Harry Potter character list or any of the settings. Yeah, yeah, J. K. Rowling owns everything. With that out of the way, on to the rats! (I can tell you're laughing.just shut-up and read.)  
  
  
  
Prologue: The Coming of the Rats (and other evil things)  
  
A sound rebounded down the long, dark hallway. A sound of something hard striking the marble floors. Somewhere in the darkness, a gasp could be heard.  
  
His heartbeat quickened. What the heck was down there?! He had to get out of there, fast. He started to creep, ever so silently, back toward the painting.  
  
Another sound. A grumble. His head snapped up as he recognized the sound of a voice somewhere in the darkness. His ears strained to make out the words. But he couldn't hear anything. All was silent. He started to make his way back toward the painting. Whoever it was down there.he couldn't be found. He couldn't.  
  
Just as he was about to reach the opening behind the tapestry that would allow him to walk in secrecy, a scream ripped through the thick silence of the castle. He abandoned all attempts of escape, thinking only that whoever had screamed must be in trouble.  
  
He raced down the hallway, frantically glancing this way and that, frantically trying to locate the person in distress. Where had the scream come from? Did the voices have anything to do with it? He continued to run, not even daring to turn and go back now.  
  
A sharp, burning pain lanced through his forehead. It was so strong that he almost stopped in sudden surprise. His head never hurt like that. Unless.  
  
His heartbeat quickened even more, and he positively raced down the hallway, nothing but a blur of white nightshirt and black hair to anyone just happening to be in a deserted classroom. He had to help her. For he was sure that it was a she.  
  
Despite his speed, he was careful to keep his footsteps quiet. He still didn't want to get caught. Even if he was trying to rescue someone from.well he wasn't sure what.  
  
When he reached the end of the hallway, he stopped abruptly. There wasn't a single trace of anyone. Where then had the scream come from? He was sure that it had been in the very same hallway he was now standing in.  
  
He jumped suddenly as a classroom door to his right slammed shut with a loud bang. Quickly recovering from the shock, he silently creeped over to the door. He cracked it open just a tiny bit, and looked through. He could see two dark, shadowy forms, hovering over a third, larger form. All he could see was a bit of shining brown hair spilling over a fair-skinned arm, wrapped in a pink nightshirt sleeve.  
  
Suddenly one of the smaller shadows hissed at the other. "That was great, Blunko, just let the entire castle know we're here!"  
  
"Relax, Jubee," the other shadow hissed back. "They've become so snug in their security that they hardly suspect anything to break their peaceful little pacifier world! We haven't been here in ages, they won't even think we've been here."  
  
"Harhar, yer right ye ole blockhead. It's good to be back in business!" Both shadows chuckled at this comment.  
  
He strained his ears to hear more, but the two forms had stopped speaking and were busying themselves working magic over the unconscious female. He had to do something.he couldn't just stand there watching them hurt her.  
  
But, if he left, where would they go? Surely they would leave as quickly and silently as they had come.maybe even taking the girl with them. He couldn't reach Dumbledore or even McGonnagall in time.  
  
As he stood there debating his choices, a bright white smiling face erupted into his vision. It took all of his self-control to stifle the shout of surprise that had welled up into his throat. It was only Peeves. Only Peeves.  
  
Peeves the Poltergeist loved pestering and scaring students, his favorite pastime being reeking havoc on the castle. He had the urge to be very, very annoyed with the ghost. As he was about to attempt to waft the ghost away, a plan formed in his mind.  
  
He slowly and silently closed the crack he had created between the door and its jam, and motioned to Peeves to follow him. Peeves, for once, obeyed, sensing the seriousness in the situation.  
  
"Peeves, there are two bad things in that room. They have a girl, and I think they are going to take her somewhere to their bad place. Go get Dumbledore and any teacher you can find. Tell them to come here right away. I'll wait here and make sure they don't go anywhere," he whispered softly and urgently.  
  
"Peeves don't like bad stinky things, for once I hear and obey. Peeves go get Dumblydore!" With that, Peeves was off, racing down the hallway and through walls. He smiled. He knew that Peeves would get there much faster than Harry would have, and he didn't even need to know the password to get into Dumbledore's office, where the Headmaster would undoubtedly be.  
  
He turned back to the classroom, ready to face the worst. He cracked the door ever so silently again. The two shadows were still huddled around the girl. But they were finishing their work fast.he had to stall for time. He couldn't let them get anywhere without Dumbledore being there first.  
  
Leaving the door cracked, he silently walked to the other side of the hallway. Mustering all his courage in one deep breath, he kicked swiftly into the wall, and then ducked behind a huge statue.  
  
"Hurr, Blunko, didjya hear that, matey?"  
  
"Aiy, Jubee, I think thar's somethin' out thar."  
  
He heard the door creak open all the way, and small footsteps on the marble floor told him that the shadows had come outside the classroom. He resisted the urge to look around the statue to see who the villains were. He didn't want them to find him. Not just yet. Facing them was his last resort.  
  
The shadows glanced nervously and suspiciously around the hallway. They saw no one and nothing. Then one shadow said to the other, "Well, Jubee, me matey, it don't look like thar's anythin' out here, we might as well go back inside and finish the job."  
  
"Aiy, Blunko, might as well."  
  
The two shadows closed the classroom door, more quietly this time. He sighed with relief, stepping out from behind the statue. He immediately froze.  
  
Staring straight into his emerald green eyes were the two shadows. He saw them closely in the moonlight streaming into the hallway from a high window. And what he saw amazed him so much; he completely forgot his fear and his mouth gaped open.  
  
Standing before him were two animals. Yes, they were animals. In fact, they were rats. Two very large rats. They stood on two paws and wore clothing the likes of which he had never seen. They looked like pirates or something.  
  
One rat drew a cutlass from his belt. He licked the blade menacingly, glaring at the boy before him. "Well, Jubee, looks like we got ourselves a little hero, eh matey?"  
  
"Aiy, it certainly do, Blunko. A real hero. Say, boy, whatdidjya think you were gonna do? Stop us?"  
  
Both rats threw their heads back and let out booming menacing laughs. If this had been a floor with a dormitory on it, they would have been heard and discovered in no time. And he would be rescued. But there was no dormitory on this floor. And the boy was left to fend for himself.  
  
The two rats were still laughing their guts out. This was his chance. Thinking fast, the boy ran to the first rat. He kicked out swiftly with his leg, causing the big rat, still only knee-high to the boy, to fall backwards, completely incapable of a counter-attack due to his lack of air. The boy snatched the blade out of the rat's paw and whirled around to face the second rat, brandishing the knife defensively.  
  
The second rat's face registered utter shock. Then, an evil grin snaked across his face. "Go ahead, matey, run me through," the rat prodded.  
  
The boy stood facing the rat, unsure as to what he should do. He didn't really want to kill the rat. He had only hoped that the rat would be afraid enough to believe that he would. This plan obviously wasn't working.  
  
"That's what me thought, ya little softie. Bin spendin' too much time at Hargwarts, don't got the guts to ram through a beast with a decent blade. You won't be foolin' me no more!" With that, the rat leaped forward onto the boy's shoulders, trying to wrestle him to the ground.  
  
The menacing rat wouldn't have succeeded if the boy hadn't received a sharp tug on the ankle that sent him crashing to the ground, the knife flying through the air and clattering on the floor somewhere near the wall. The fallen rat had recovered. And now both of them were swarming him, pinning him to the ground.  
  
"Well, matey, looks like it's gonna be a double job tonight!"  
  
"Harhar, right you are matey, right you are!"  
  
The boy thought furiously, going over everything in his mind, racing to think of a plan.how could he get himself out of this bind and yet stall the rats until Dumbledore arrived? Then, it came to him.  
  
Tensing all the muscles in his arm, preparing for the move, he cried "WHAT IS THAT OUT THERE?! IS THAT A GIANT OWL TRYING TO BREAK THROUGH THE WINDOW?!"  
  
The rats, despite their enlargened size, swiveled their heads in pure terror. They knew that an owl could probably take them out with ease, even if they were huge.  
  
Taking advantage of the opening, the boy shot his hand into his nightshirt and pulled out his long, thin wand. This wand had never failed him. He hoped with all his might that it wouldn't break its winning streak now.  
  
He threw the rats off his body and shot up onto his feet. He directed his wand at the rats. He grinned mischievously.  
  
"I may not want to kill you with your knife, but this thing can do so much more than kill! I know how to use this and I am definitely not afraid to," the boy warned the oversized rats. They backed off promptly, believing the young wizard.  
  
Suddenly one rat grew bold and lunged at the boy, attempting to knock the wand out of his hand. The boy dodged, aimed at the rat, and yelled "Freezoia Bindus!"  
  
The rat let out a small yelp as he was completely encased in ice, disabling his movement. The other rat's eyes grew wide as he stared at his frozen solid companion.  
  
Just then the three dueling forms heard footsteps and shouts along the corridor. The free rat gasped, grabbed his frozen partner, and raced back into the classroom before the boy could do anything to stop them.  
  
Dumbledore suddenly appeared at the end of the hallway, breathing hard from running the entire way. Professor McGonnagall and Professor Snape were close behind. Dumbledore inspected the area. He didn't see any "bad things" about which Peeves had ranted. If this was another prank.  
  
But then the Headmaster caught sight of the boy. This boy would not pull a prank like this. Suddenly the boy stirred from a sort of trance. "Professor, they went in there!" He pointed urgently to the deserted classroom.  
  
The teachers immediately rushed into the classroom to inspect it. There were no rats anywhere. The girl they had captured lay on the floor, unconscious. She looked peaceful and unharmed. Nonetheless, Professor McGonnagall levitated the girl and began to float her to the infirmary.  
  
Professor Dumbledore looked at the boy again. "Well, Harry, despite the fact that the culprits escaped, it looks to me like you did a rather good job of saving that girl. She's a Gryffindor, like you. She was just transferred from another magical school. I'm fairly sure that if you hadn't interrupted this little.well.whatever it was, she would have been taken from this castle. Good job, Mr. Potter!"  
  
Harry smiled and thanked Dumbledore. "Now, Harry, you should really be getting some sleep. With the first day of school tomorrow I want all my pupils well rested! We'll talk about this tomorrow." With that, the Headmaster turned and strode out of the room, intent on returning to his nice warm bed and his odd dreams.  
  
Just as Professor Snape was about to follow Dumbledore, he whirled around and glared at Harry. "You may be some sort of hero again Harry Potter, but I know that you didn't just happen to hear villains and struggles from your dormitory bed. Every other person in this school might be willing to overlook your misbehavior simply because you are the boy wonder, but you won't have the free-run of the castle while I have anything to do with it. I'm going to find out why you were here, Potter, you can be sure of that. I'm watching you like a hawk." Snape then turned on his heel and marched purposefully out the door.  
  
Harry sighed. He was tired of Professor Snape targeting him out of jealously that went all the way back to the days of his father. Ever since Harry had started coming to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the greasy-haired, sallow-skinned almost evil Snape had been doing his best to make life miserable for Harry. And this was now his fifth year. Snape was the one plus to having only two years left at Hogwarts after this one.  
  
Harry shook his thoughts out of his mind and started back up to his dormitory. There was no need to take secret passages now. He just went straight up the main staircase. Little did he know, a pair of sinister yellow eyes was watching him as he left the deserted, dangerous classroom. 


	2. The History

A/N: Ok, here it is, Chapter 2. I must be writing like crazy to get all this out. Although I HAVE only gotten ONE review. Thank-you Ron Weasley, I read your story in return. PLEASE read and review, I know this may be a little strange, but I thought it might be kind of fun to take it and run with it. Maybe I could get two reviews this time? Please? Well I hate to get down on my knees and beg, so I'll go ahead and start the chapter. It may be a little short, who knows. Oh, wait, I almost forgot.  
  
I do not own Harry Potter nor any of the characters found in the original books written by JK Rowling. I own only the rats, any other new characters, and the plot. Ok, I'll get on with it now.  
  
  
  
Chapter Two: The History  
  
As Harry and his two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, were heading down the several flights of stairs, he told them all about his late night encounter the night before and Snape's reaction.  
  
"Man, he is SO evil," Ron grumbled. Snape picked on Ron quite a bit as well. In fact, Snape picked on all Gryffindors.but mostly just Harry and his friends.  
  
"Never mind Snape, he always acts like that! I can't believe there could actually be two walking talking knee-high rats! I have GOT to get to the library to figure this out! Maybe they have something in there that'll tell us what exactly we're up against!" Hermione exploded. Both boys looked at each other knowingly.  
  
Just as everyone in the Great Hall had finished breakfast, Dumbledore stood up at the staff table and cleared his throat purposefully. The morning chatter died down immediately.  
  
"Students, I feel that is much better to inform you of what is happening in your school rather than try to hide it from you. Therefore there is something you must know. Last night, two sinister and not well- meaning creatures attacked a student of ours. We don't know where they came from, what they are, or even how they managed to get into the school. But we will protect you! Do not fear; only be on the lookout for strange creatures that shouldn't be inside the school grounds. And go nowhere, I repeat nowhere, alone. Should you require immediate assistance, simply yell for the nearest ghost, and they will get a teacher as quickly as possible. That is all. Thank you. You will now go to your normal classes."  
  
The entire Great Hall burst into excited whispers, none daring enough to discuss the attack at full volume. As the hall began to empty with students trudging to the first class of the year, Dumbledore and McGonnagall approached Harry and his friends.  
  
"Potter, Dumbledore and I would like to see you in his office," McGonnagall demanded. "Weasley, Granger, you need to go to class."  
  
Ron and Hermione seemed to be dying to stay, but there was no arguing with the head professor of the Gryffindor house. They trudged off to the first class of the day.Double Potions with Snape. When they had seen this on the schedule, they had almost had a heart attack. First class on a Monday morning and it's Double Potions with Snape?!  
  
Harry watched them go, wishing they could stay. Then he sighed and followed Dumbledore and McGonnagall up the stairs.  
  
  
  
"And then the other rat grabbed the frozen one and they took off into the classroom," Harry finished breathlessly. He had been seated in a comfy chair and ordered to talk. He had told the two professors everything. Harry wasn't too sure he liked how Dumbledore's facial expression had turned from surprised, to disbelieving, to grim.  
  
"I had thought they wouldn't come back. I had thought that we were finally safe," the aged wizard with a crooked nose mumbled sadly to himself.  
  
"What was that Professor Dumbledore?" Harry inquired curiously. He had thought he had heard the Headmaster speak of something that seemed to have plagued the school before.  
  
"Well, Harry, I believe the truth is preferable to lies, no matter how small and white they are, and so, I will tell you. Hundreds of years ago, there was a great tribe of evil creatures. Rats, shrews, weasels, foxes, you name it. They thought they should have the run of the world. They despised all humans who possessed any sort of magic, for they felt that magic belonged to them, and them alone. They were bound and determined to rid the world of magic humans. They did whatever they could. But they were never much of a threat, for they were mere beasts. But one year, they disappeared. Just utterly and completely disappeared, leaving no trace behind. Until Hogwart's pendent went missing. The pendent wasn't the only thing. A student was unaccounted for as well. After a thorough search of the castle, no one could come up with anything. Until the note appeared. It was etched with blood, the words rhyming. It stated simply that they had the pendent and the child. They would choose a team. A team of wizards that they deemed worthy opponents. And the team would be made up entirely of students.no teachers. These students were put in charge of retrieving the student and the pendent. The villainous tribe threatened that if Hogwarts didn't cooperate, there would be trouble. For they were in the very castle, hidden away where no human could find them. And they would make sure there was trouble. Devastating trouble. So Hogwarts cooperated. One by one, the members of the team were picked off by the evil gang.no one knew where they had gone. One by one they disappeared until a single chosen student was left. That one found the way to the tribe's secret lair, and slayed the rat chief. It was the only way to retrieve the pendent.and the students. It went like this every ten or twenty years, spreading from school to school. Then, they stopped. Just stopped. To this day, no one knows what happened to them, but they certainly weren't attacking the schools anymore, and they weren't even in the schools. This was a hundred years ago. But it is obvious to me now that they are back. And we are in grave danger, for we know not what they will take, and they still have yet to kidnap a hostage," Dumbledore sighed and rubbed his aging temples.  
  
Harry's mind whirled. How could this be? This was totally unrealistic. But he couldn't deny the evidence. He himself had frozen one of the knee-high evil rats. What could possibly happen now? What would the evil creatures take? Who would they take? Harry shuddered, unwilling to think about what the future might bring. 


	3. The Challenge

A/N: All right, I didn't REALLY want to leave you all with no more Harry Potter and the Rats story to read! LoL, just kidding. But I gotta warn you, with more final exams this week, it isn't gonna be a chapter a day thing anymore. At least not until Christmas break! ;). I changed the rating on this one for this chapter because of some slight blood scenes, though not much, I promise! I'm probably just being paranoid. Oh, yeah, there WAS that line in the message. ANYWAYS, time to get on with the chapter!  
  
  
  
Chapter Three: The Challenge  
  
Harry could not focus his mind on the Mars Mosquito Trap. The 5th year Herbology students were supposed to be feeding the dangerous plants that didn't even come close to resembling their Muggle cousins (Venus Fly Traps). Professor Sprout had scolded the class earlier when they had scoffed at the harmless looking lavender buds.  
  
"Remember, these plants are dangerous and high maintenance. If you do not direct your full attention to them, they will most likely choose to eat you instead of the mosquitoes. Harry, this is the second time I have caught you daydreaming! I don't think you'll like your hand so much when Madame Pomfrey has to reattatch it," Professor Sprout warned Harry.  
  
Harry nodded absent-mindedly and returned to his thoughts. Exactly what were those creatures going to take? Maybe if he figured it out before they took it, he would be able to tell Dumbledore and they could protect it. As for the student, well everyone would just have to be on his or her guard.  
  
Harry let out a surprised yelp of pain as he felt razor-sharp little teeth clamp onto his hand. He looked down and realized that the smallest innocent looking lavender bud had now bloomed to the size of his head and consumed his hand.  
  
Harry bit his lip as he felt the needle-like teeth holding their catch. He began timidly tugging on his hand, trying to rip it from the bold bud's strong jaws. Hermione looked over from the bud she had been attentively caring for. Her eyes widened in panic.  
  
"OH MY GOSH HARRY YOUR HAND IS IN THAT THING'S MOUTH!!!"  
  
"Gee, Hermione, I hadn't noticed. Thank-you for notifying me. Now if you'll excuse me THIS HURTS!!!" Harry bellowed sarcastically at Hermione.  
  
"Oh for crying out loud Hermione, this is all you gotta do. PROFESSOR SPROUT PROFESSOR SPROUT!!! HARRY'S TRAP IS TRYING TO EAT HIM!!!" Ron yelled in his Weasley-perfected magnified voice.  
  
Professor Sprout hurried over to the disaster scene. "I told you to watch what you're doing, Harry! Hermione, Ron, please take Harry to the hospital wing while I handle this bud. Oh, Harry, you've gotten it all excited!" Sprout cried. She quickly whipped out her wand and began to stroke the bud, neon streaks appearing on the soft petals wherever her wand touched. The bud loosened its jaws and began to purr. Harry took advantage of the bud's relaxation and quickly slipped his hand out before the plant could change its mind.  
  
Hermione and Ron began ushering Harry out of the greenhouse. Harry didn't dare look at his hand. He didn't really want to know what that plant had done to it.  
  
"Aw Harry lookit your hand! It's got all these deep holes and gashes! That's so cool!! And what are those?" Too late. Ron apparently didn't mind observing the damage.  
  
"Oh, no! Harry the plant left it's poison kernels in the holes it bit into your hand! We'll never make it to Madame Pomfrey in time! Here give me your hand," Hermione instructed matter-of-factly. Harry, still not looking, stuck his hand clumsily at Hermione.  
  
"Without getting blood all over me! Your hand is positively gushing. Oh, sorry. Let me think. I read about the Mars Traps in the textbook during the summer. They're rather fascinating plants. Did you know that each little petal contains a nerve that communicates back to the."  
  
"HERMIONE!!! MY HAND IS DRIPPING BLOOD ALL OVER EVERYTHING AND I AM ABOUT TO DIE FROM PLANT POISONING!!! ARE YOU GOING TO FIX IT OR NOT?!" Harry shouted.  
  
"Oh, right, fix it, yes. I read about the counter-poison spell. We're supposed to learn it in Herbology in a couple of weeks, I think, after we've finished caring for the ones Professor Sprout has. Fix it, yes, I'm getting there!" Hermione quickly defended herself as Harry and Ron glared at her. She pointed her wand at Harry's stinging, gashed hand and muttered something that sounded like "Cokeandabottle!" The poison kernels and the livid green poison came shooting out of Harry's hand like a fountain, and neat little disinfectant-loaded bandages wrapped themselves tightly around Harry's whole hand.  
  
"There, that should do it till Madame Pomfrey can fix it up right!" Hermione declared, very proud of her work.  
  
"Uh, Hermione?" Ron asked timidly. "Uh, have you ever, uh, tried that spell before?"  
  
"Of course not, do you think people get bitten by Mars Mosquito Traps every day?" Hermione snapped.  
  
Harry gulped. He was very glad Hermione usually got things right the first time.  
  
Hermione held out an arm as the three wizarding students neared the hospital wing. Harry ran smack into it. He massaged his assaulted collarbone sorely.  
  
"What'djya do that for Hermione?" he hissed testily.  
  
"SHHHHHHHH!" Hermione replied hastily. "I hear voices coming from the hospital. I can't hear them. I'm going closer. Care to join me, gentlemen?"  
  
"Hermione, eavesdropping? Now this I gotta see!" Ron whispered, his voice sounding quite eager.  
  
The three tiptoed up to the door, each pressing an ear against it.  
  
"Oh, no, you don't say Severus!" Madame Pomfrey's unmistakable motherly voice exclaimed.  
  
"Yes, Poppy, I do. Albus has requested that I notify every teacher in this entire school. They need to know before the students do."  
  
"Oh, they will be so devastated. But I suppose it IS best to tell them. What, again, did you say they have?"  
  
"We're not exactly sure, they wrote everything in rhyme. But I personally have a hunch. I'm going back up to Albus's office as soon as I am finished with the rounds to check. I can't believe Albus hasn't thought of it before!"  
  
Hermione gasped as she heard footsteps approaching the door. She jumped back, dragging Ron and Harry with her.  
  
Just as they had cleared the doorjam, Professor Snape flung open the door and marched out. He stopped to give Harry, Hermione, and Ron each their own sinister glare.  
  
"And exactly WHAT are you three doing here?" Professor Snape practically spat at the three eavesdroppers.  
  
Ron was about to crack. "Uh.um.nothing.uh.much..um," he stuttered lamely.  
  
"Well, Proffesor Snape, Harry just received a nasty wound from a Mars Mosquito Trap in Herbology this morning, and we were instructed by Proffesor Sprout to bring Harry to Madame Pomfrey," Hermione quickly cut in.  
  
Harry held his bandaged hand up apologetically, acting as innocent as possible. Proffesor Snape glared at them, not quite believing them, yet not accusing them.  
  
"Proffesor, would you mind answering a few questions for me? I'm right in the middle of writing that Potions essay. I'm having a little trouble understanding the Color-Changing Theory," Hermione quickly added, giving him her most winning smile.  
  
Snape, knowing perfectly well Hermione had no trouble understanding the theory, dismissed her attempts to sound innocent. "Perhaps at another time, Granger. For now, I must be going. But I am keeping my eye on the three of you. I am fairly certain you weren't just strolling to the hospital wing. Good afternoon."  
  
As Snape walked briskly away, Hermione rolled her eyes. This was definitely un-Hermione-like behavior. But as long as she didn't constantly reprimand them for not studying, not doing their homework early, or not doing the morally and ethically right thing, Harry and Ron didn't much mind.  
  
"My, Hermione, this is very nice work you've done here. Are you sure this was your first try?" Madame Pomfrey commented when finally examining Harry's bitten hand.  
  
"Yes, Madame Pomfrey. I had studied the textbook quite hard this summer and felt fairly confident in my ability to perform the spell correctly. I wouldn't have chanced such magic, except I felt Harry was in real jeopardy, what with the poison kernels in his hand," Hermione explained, sounding extrememly smug.  
  
"Of course, dear, you were right. Be just be careful. Whenever possible, leave the real cure work to me," Madame Pomfrey said.  
  
"Of course Madame Pomfrey," Hermione replied. Harry wasn't sure whether she meant it or not.  
  
On the way back to Herbology, the three discussed what they had heard in hushed tones.  
  
"Whatdya think they were talking about Harry?" Ron asked.  
  
"I'm not exactly sure, but I would bet it was those rats and their games," Harry guessed. He had told Ron and Hermione Dumdledore's story (with a "But I never found anything like that in the library! I wonder why." from Hermione).  
  
"No, boys, they were talking about tonight's dinner. Of COURSE they were talking about the rats! What ELSE could they be talking about?!" Hermione nearly shouted testily.  
  
"Sheesh Hermione, calm down. Down be sore just 'cause you didn't find anything about it in the library first," said Ron.  
  
Later that night at dinner, just as the students and staff were finishing up desert (except for Hagrid, the unusually large gamekeeper who was twice the size of a normal man) Dumdledore stood up and clapped his hands. The students immediately looked to the Headmaster expectantly.  
  
"Students, Proffesor McGonnagall and I made a surprising discovery this morning. I have promised to keep you informed about the situation our school has recently been caught in. We received a little note from the Rat Cheiftain and his tribe today. I think you should know exactly what is happening and therefore I will read it to you now. I also wish for your help in dechiphering the clues. The villains never say outright what they have or want us to do. They leave rhyming hints. So, if you have any idea what the villains have taken, please notify your House professor immediately. Thank-you." With that, Dumdledore pulled a large, musty looking scroll from inside his robes. He cleared his throat and then began to read. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the entire school listened closely.  
  
"You fear us  
  
Oh yes you do  
  
For who would not?  
  
We take something and someone dear to you  
  
You will grieve when you discover  
  
What we have of yours  
  
It clothes an unsure head  
  
It the school adores  
  
The school cannot go on  
  
Without it's invaluable guidance  
  
No human can do its job  
  
The school will slowly sink into subsidance  
  
Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin  
  
All your silly houses  
  
Who will put who where?  
  
That is up to us, the mouses  
  
Or are we mouses?  
  
You'll never know  
  
Only the one who remains  
  
Oh yes, this one we will show  
  
Our secrets and plots  
  
And our evil ways  
  
And then he will not remember  
  
For we will leave him as he decays  
  
A team will be chosen  
  
By none other then we  
  
Then we will tell you  
  
So all can see  
  
Who will be brave  
  
And who will not  
  
Who will dare to challenge us  
  
And who won't be forgot  
  
Trouble lurks in your castle  
  
We are hidden to all human eyes  
  
Cooperation we must see  
  
Or you will pay for your lies  
  
We alone now hold the power  
  
If you know what is best for you  
  
You will understand  
  
And what we say, you will do"  
  
Harry, taken aback, scratched his head. He glanced at Ron, who shrugged in return. As the two swept the Hall to see if anyone seemed to have gotten anywhere with this, they realized that the entire school seemed to be having the same reaction, including the teachers! Harry looked down at his plateful of plum pudding, searching for answers. What could the band of ruffians have possibly taken?  
  
  
  
ANOTHER A/N: Sorry, I didn't wanna say much before I wrote in case everyone got bored! WOW! Three reviews this time! Thanks go to Curare, *Prongs*, and T. Cairpre (formerly Ron Weasley). Thanks, guys, again! I hope you liked this chapter, I got it out for you! Well, time to decorate the tree! Bye! 


	4. The Accident

I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters or the settings. J.K. Rowling gets the credit for that. However, the rats and their gang, the plot, and Harry's maroon sludge are allllllll mine.  
  
Chapter Four: The Accident  
  
The rat reached for the saber in its belt. Its dry, scratchy paw clutched Harry's throat roughly. The rat gripped his short, deadly blade, and took aim. He withdrew his arm, holding it high over his head. With a hoarse, terrifying cry, he plunged his arm downwards.  
  
Harry screamed and tossed his spreads aside. He went flying through the curtain around his four-poster bed in the fifth year boy's dormitory in the Gryffindor Tower. Ron jumped out of his gigantic bed, startled.  
  
Dean sat up abruptly and lit the candles with his wand. All five boys in the room looked at Harry, standing in the center of the dormitory, panting, searching madly with his eyes all around him. Where had the rat gone? Had it been trying to kill him?!  
  
"Harry, Harry, calm down. What's the matter?" Ron asked, grabbing Harry's rapidly swiveling head and holding it still, looking at Ron's face.  
  
"There was a rat in here, Ron! It had a little sword, it was trying to kill me with it! Where'd it go?!" Harry practically shouted back, and twisted his head out of Ron's grip, resuming his search.  
  
Ron looked at the black haired boy incuriously. "Rat?! Sword?! Kill you?! What the heck are you talking about Harry?! It must have been just a nightmare, clam down, get back in bed, go to sleep, everything's ok. You've been thinking about the rats too much. They wouldn't dare come all the way up to the dormitory, and they definitely wouldn't try to KILL you, that isn't supposed to happen until the one," Ron trailed off here, trying to avoid the subject of one person being killed by the rats. Harry wasn't quite convinced, and continued his mad search of the dormitory. Ever since the rats had taken the Sorting Hat (Dumbledore's reading of the poem and plea for all to figure out what had been stolen had been answered two minutes later when Hermione had leaped off her chair and screamed "THE SORTING HAT!!!") the battle against the rats had become personal. His life had been saved by that Sorting Hat, and it was because of the shabby headwear that he was in Gryffindor where he belonged. The rats had consumed his entire thought process for several days now.  
  
When nothing was found that could be traced back to the presence of a mad, evil rat, the boys sat down, trying to devise a plan. Just then, who should pop through the door (without even knocking!) but Hermione?!  
  
Ten minutes later Professor McGonagall and Dumbldore were bursting into the boys' dormitory. Of course, upon hearing the full story from a very shaken Harry, Hermione had insisted they notify a teacher immediately. Without waiting for a single word of consent from anyone, she had sent her cat, Crookshanks, with a note to McGonagall.  
  
Harry's eyes were nothing but drooping bags when he reached the Great Hall the following morning. He had had a horrible night starting from that dream. It HAD to have been a dream. After an extremely thorough search of the dormitory conducted during an evacuation of the Gryffindor Tower, no evidence of the rat's presence had been discovered. The other Gryffindors looked slightly sleep-deprived as well, but nowhere NEAR the caliber of Harry's walking zombie look.  
  
  
  
Harry awoke, feeling strangely out of breath. He felt like his face was warming up rapidly and his facial muscles were covered in a thick, tried sensation. He heard Ron screaming at him, though it sounded slightly muffled through the sleepy haze, and raised his head to see what was wrong. He heard a sickening sucking sound as he had to struggle to get his head off the table. His porridge bowl clattered to the wooden table now that it did not contain his face.  
  
"Harry, maybe we need to take you to Madame Pomfrey, you look awful. You should really get some sleep, I don't see HOW you're going to get through Double Potions functioning on zero conscious brain activity!" Hermione suggested gently, wiping porridge off Harry's face with a sodden rag for the fourth time, and sliding his porridge bowl to her side of the table.  
  
"No, no, will be fine. Must go to Potions. Stay away from evil hospital wing," Harry mumbled. His head promptly fell to the table with a loud ::BANG:: He didn't even notice that he had fallen into another deep sleep on top of his plate of eggs.  
  
Ron and Hermione had managed to keep Harry awake on the way to the Potions dungeon. Harry was STILL pulling bits of egg out of his hair as he sank onto his tall stool beside his black cauldron.  
  
"Ron, you've GOT to keep him awake. He could seriously hurt someone in here if he doesn't keep his mind on his work!" Hermione hissed as she strode past Ron on her way to her own table, and noticing that Harry had fallen asleep and toppled into his cauldron when someone had slapped him on the back in greeting. What concerned her the most, however, was that he didn't even wake up. He just went right on snoozing with his torso in his cauldron and his legs and feet sticking straight up into the air.  
  
  
  
Harry drooled all over his Potions textbook as he gaped drowsily at his cauldron. It was an intense maroon color, glowing with a strange greenish tinge around the edges, while everyone else's was a vivid orange. His cauldron was beginning to give off a smell that could be associated with animal wastes as he stirred it slowly and subconsciously. He set his giant wooden spoon down on his table (or so he thought. He missed the table, knocked a few beakers onto the floor, and managed to end the shattering fiasco with a loud bang from the stirring spoon as it hit the stone floors). He gripped a bottle of something (he had absolutely no idea what) and pulled out the cork. He turned the bottle mouth down over the cauldron, and watched the pretty silver fluid cascading down into his stinky maroon mush, making little plinking sounds as it hit the surface.  
  
"HARRY!!!! WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU PUTTING INTO THAT STUFF?! WHAT IS IT?!" Hermione shouted from across the dungeon. Snape looked up from complimenting Malfoy's "wonderful concoction" just in time to witness the page Harry's elbow was resting on slip, and Harry's entire arm when shooting into his vat of maroon sludge. The bottle of Acidic Newt Serum he'd been emptying into his cauldron of "mistake" exploded in his hand, and the entire cauldron went up in flames.  
  
  
  
When the steam had cleared, the damage to Snape's dungeon was unbelievable. Shards of iron were all over the place, and chunks of some maroon substance were sticking to the ceiling. Harry was lying unconscious on the cold, stone floor, his entire arm burnt and bubbling. He looked like he wouldn't come to even if you rolled a tractor over him. Snape started to pick his way across the dungeon towards Harry's sprawled form.  
  
He was almost there when one of the maroon chunks dislodged itself from the low ceiling with a loud ::SHLOOP:: and landed near his feet, narrowly missing his greasy, black-haired head. A small fountain of clear liquid shot up out of the maroon mass as it hit the floor with an unpleasant ::PLOP::. Ron began yelling as some of the liquid hit his face. Harry had obviously mixed the wrong kinds of ingredients.  
  
  
  
Later that week, things were looking grim. Ron's face had long since been cleaned of liquid and all damage done had been repaired. The entire dungeon had been blocked off, and now Filch was left with the unpleasant task of scouring the threatening maroon crust off of every single surface.  
  
Harry, however, was still out like a light. A light with a burnt out bulb that couldn't be turned back on no matter how hard you tried. His arm had been bandaged heavily, the burns treated. No one was exactly sure as of yet as to what effects the sludge had had on his afflicted limb. Everyone was just holding his or her breath. Harry Potter had to make it. He was the boy who lived! How could he go through four confrontations against Voldemort and not survive this simple potions disaster?!  
  
As Hermione quietly shut the hospital wing door with a soft click, silent tears made wet streaks down her face. Why hadn't she INSISTED Harry go to Madame Pomfrey to get some sleep? She had known how tired he was, and she had known what kinds of things happen in magic when you're that tired. He could die tomorrow. And it would be all her fault.  
  
She ran to the Gryffindor Tower, her face buried in her hands. Ron was sitting on the couch, staring into the fire. Worry etched itself across his tired face. He, too, blamed himself for Harry's condition. He should have realized Harry was not up to Potions when his head went down into his porridge bowl the first time. Why hadn't he noticed that what his best friend in the entire world needed was some SLEEP? The stress, the dreams, the conflict had all been too much for Harry the Boy Wonder, who believed it was his duty to rescue the entire school. No. He had been to anxious about the difficult potion they were going to be concocting all on their own that day in class, and he had NOT wanted to have to figure it out on his own. So he had overlooked Harry's lack of sleep and dragged him to Potions.  
  
Ron turned around, startled, when the portrait swung open. It was late, and the common room was deserted. Hermione fled into the huge room, tears still fresh on her pained face, and saw Ron sitting alone. She knew he hadn't been able to sleep when she had sent him back, and she knew she wouldn't be able to either. She slid onto the coach next to her other best friend.  
  
"Oh, Ron, what have we done?" She asked in a whisper.  
  
"I don't know, Hermione. I don't know."  
  
Ron wrapped a comforting arm around Hermione's shoulders, and together they grieved over the possible loss of their best friend, Harry Potter. Hermione leaned her head against Ron's shoulder, the tears wetting his blue sweater. He held her tighter, hoping to stop her crying. Leaning his head on top of hers, he rubbed her back until she slowly cried herself to sleep. Not wanting to disturb her, he drifted off into a doze right where he was. With Hermione in his arms.  
  
  
  
Meanwhile, in the hospital wing, Madame Pomfrey was extremely puzzled when she observed Harry's eyes moving underneath his eyelids. They were going fast, and they appeared to be the reaction to an interesting, intense vision. They were the only part of him that had moved in four days.  
  
Madame Pomfrey extinguished the candle by his bed, though she doubted Harry would actually notice the change in lighting. She slowly walked to her office, hoping with all her might that she'd find Harry awake in the morning.  
  
Harry's unconscious mind, enveloped in a suffocating coma, was completely consumed by other thoughts, if you could even call them that.  
  
  
  
A/N: Oooooo, cliffhanger AGAIN! Mwaahahaha. Hey, it's the only way to keep some people reading, right? Don't worry, there will DEFINITELY be more, I wouldn't be so evil as to not explain what's happening to Harry! Or IS anything happening to Harry? Will there actually be a Harry in the next chapter? ::Dun Dun DUUUUN:: You'll have to read and find out! And do I detect a hint of something between Ron and Hermione? Hmmm, possibly. It's up to you guys to decide if you want that kinda stuff in here. Please review! I really enjoy the feedback. Feel free to criticize, I don't mind. After all, what's the point in asking for reviews if all you want is good ones? You know what you're gonna get by doing that, so hey, might as well not ask for reviews. Anyways, thanks a million to Melodi, Mackadoodle (yes I know who BOTH of you are!), T. Cairpre, Marsisbrighttonight, and Lotusgirl15 for reviewing since the last chapter! I appreciate it so much! Anyways, I hoped you enjoyed this chapter, more later! Bye!  
  
~*Mitie Mouse*~ 


	5. The Vision

Chapter Five: The Vision  
  
"What do you want with me?! Can't you just let me go?!" Harry screamed into the darkness. He was mysteriously weighed down. There weren't any material bonds on his limbs, but he still couldn't move them. It must be magic.  
  
He could tell it had been a long time. A very long time. He had tried so hard to move, to speak, anything. But he couldn't. It was as if something were catching his voice as it attempted to rise in his throat and spill into the air. He couldn't move his arms; he couldn't force his muscles to contract, to do ANYTHING!  
  
"You listen to me! I don't know who you are or where I am, and I don't care! LET ME OUT!!!!" Harry continued to rage into the emptiness.  
  
There was no reply.  
  
  
  
"Ron? Ron. Ron!" Hermione prodded the sleeping red-haired teenager next to her. She had woken up to find herself snuggled so tightly against him she could barely breath. But it was a nice place to be. Ron was warm and soft, and despite all the glory Harry got for all his triumphs against Voldemort and all his Quidditch training overshadowing Ron and HIS attributes, he was growing into a rather muscular, attractive young man. He had the arms to prove it.  
  
She had tried extremely hard just to "Oops, fell asleep again," but then she remembered that the rest of the Gryffindor House would most likely be hungry for new gossip. Hermione couldn't deal with vicious rumors right now. Harry was.  
  
HARRY! She had totally forgotten about Harry! Maybe he was awake! Maybe he was looking better. Or maybe. Hermione shook the thought out of her head. She had to wake Ron up now and get down to the hospital wing.  
  
  
  
Ron and Hermione raced down to Madame Pomfrey's religiously run clinic. She had promised Hermione the previous night (after forcefully running her away from Harry's bedside to get some rest) that the two of them could come first thing in the morning to check on their best friend. They hoped with all their might that their visit would not be in vain.  
  
Ron careened through the open hospital wing door. He almost slipped and went sliding into the first, unoccupied bed. Hermione, a little more cautious, reached out and grabbed a handful of his wool sweater before he could crash into the bed, causing a devastating domino accident.  
  
"You've GOT to be careful in here, Ron! You could've seriously hurt some innocent person. And I'm NOT talking about you, either!" Hermione scolded.  
  
Ron rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation. Both Ron and Hermione slowly and almost fearfully approached the curtain around Harry's bed.  
  
"Madame Pomfrey, we're here!" Hermione called softly.  
  
"You can go ahead and come around the curtain, dearies, I promised you could come see him this morning," the nurse witch called back.  
  
Hermione took a deep breath and stepped purposefully around the curtain. Her heart fell as she saw Harry, lying underneath the crisp, white sheets, his messy black hair crumpled against the fluffy white pillows. He looked thin and frail, just as he had the night before.  
  
"Hermione, how is he?" Ron called from the other side of the curtain.  
  
"He's no different, I'm afraid children. I'm not sure how long he can go like this. If he doesn't wake up soon, he won't be able to eat. I'll have to put him on magic nourishment. If there aren't any improvements within the next week, I'm required to send him to the Magical Intensive Care Hospital!" Madame Pomfrey explained to the children sadly as Ron took a step into Harry's bed space.  
  
Silent tears slowly traced fresh tracks down Hermione's perpetually wet face. Why was this happening? What had Harry done to deserve this? What had SHE done to deserve this?  
  
"You only have 20 minutes before classes start, I suggest you put your robes on and go down to the Great Hall and get some breakfast. It will make you feel better, at least. Just because Harry can't eat doesn't mean you don't need to," Madame Pomfrey suggested gently.  
  
Ron nodded slowly. He understood the wisdom behind these words, and he and Hermione should at least try to eat a couple bites. Hermione was reluctant to leave. For once, she DIDN'T want to go to classes. She just wanted to stay here by Harry's bed all day. Maybe, just maybe, if he had people who loved him all around, he'd come back.  
  
Ron gently squeezed Hermione's shoulder. He took one last look at Harry, pale and fragile, and tugged on Hermione's arm. She allowed herself to be pulled out of the hospital wing, and once they had entered the main hallway, she walked freely.  
  
  
  
Professor Dumbledore sighed and looked down at his plate of pumpkin pancakes. Normally he would be thoroughly enjoying this meal and heartily encouraging the staff to eat well before the beginning of the day. This morning, however, found the staff table shrouded in a quiet cloud of sadness. Every teacher, especially those who actually had Harry in one of their classes, was tense with worry. They were all just waiting for the Boy Wonder to pull through again.  
  
Professor Snape was the most silent of them all. He didn't say a single word at breakfast, and he hardly touched his pancakes, though they were his personal favorite. The accident had happened in his class, hadn't it? Therefore he was partially to blame for Harry's condition, wasn't he? If he hadn't been so occupied with praising Draco's average potion, he might have been able to prevent Harry from continuing to produce his foul mixture. He should have noticed how tired the boy was and sent him to the hospital wing immediately.  
  
Professor Dumbledore sighed again. It was time. The students must be told. Those confounded rats, fowl and evil, were ruining his school! Not only had they put the only 15-year-old ever to face Lord Voldemort and live to tell the tale (let alone multiple times!) in the hospital with a life threatening condition, they had actually kidnapped a student! They had taken advantage of the confusion and smoke in the dungeon and made their move. Now it became clear that the rats had ways of getting wherever they wanted in the castle, and that was not a pleasant thought. After a long night of tossing and turning and worry, the great Albus Dumbledore had decided to send the students home and deal with the rats himself.  
  
Standing up, he cleared his throat half-heartedly. It could be the last time he'd ever stand to make a speech to his beloved students. If the rats refused to step down, the school would have to be closed for good.  
  
"Students, I have some sad news. As you all may know by now, a terrible accident occurred in a potions class last week. It was no one's, and I repeat no one's fault," Dumbledore began, looking pointedly at Ron and Hermione. "However, despite the fact that it was a simple accident, a student was grievously injured. Harry Potter, the only person credited with the weakening of Lor," Dumbldore caught himself just in time. "He-Who- Must-Not-Be-Named, is lying now in a deep coma. His condition is uncertain, and it looks as though the he may not pull through." With this, the great headmaster bowed his head, and the entire population of Hogwarts followed suit. "We can only hope that all our love and care for him can be enough to bring him back to the world of the living."  
  
Hermione started sobbing. She couldn't hold it in any longer. She would lose her best friend in the entire world, besides Ron. Who would reunite the gang after she got into a huge fight with the red-haired boy who possessed a temper to match his flaming hair? Who would she talk to about every problem she would ever encounter? Who would she talk to about her possible feelings for Ron, and trust not to tell anyone in the whole world? Who would she cheer for and whose live would she save in a Quidditch match? Who could ever replace the great Harry Potter?  
  
Ron reached over to Hermione beside him. Catching her trembling hand, he squeezed it tightly, and then continued to maintain his grip. The pair stood there, she crying and he tightening his throat in a considerable effort not to let the tears out, holding each other's hand as if it were the only thing they had left.  
  
Dumbledore continued. "As if this weren't a big enough blow to our school, the rats have finally captured their hostage. During the dungeon fiasco, a young boy went missing. It is assumed that he was snatched from amid the confusion and smoke. We will attempt to regain him, but there are no grantees that we will be able to bring Neville Longbottom back to this Great Hall."  
  
The new girl in Gryffindor, the one Harry had saved in the very beginning of the tragedy, gasped. "Neville? Why would they want Neville? It was me, me! They were supposed to take me! And now it's all my fault that Neville's gone," she whispered, and promptly burst into tears. Hermione, standing next to her, reached out for her hand. Seamus Finnigan, on her other side, took her other hand, as well as the hand of the girl on his other side. The chain continued unbroken until the entire Gryffindor House was linked.  
  
"And it is with a heavy heart, my dear children, that I inform you of the decision that had to be made. It is no longer safe in this school, as it has been for centuries on end. None of our spells or magical guardians could keep these heartless villains away from you. If you do not leave, you will be in grave peril. Therefore it is my duty to consider the safety of all my students first and foremost. I am dismissing you all to your separate homes until the rats can be cleared out of our castle. And if they cannot be cleared out, then I shall be forced to shut the school down for good. I apologize for the pain and trouble this ordeal has caused everyone, and you have my most sincere promise that I, and the rest of the staff, will do everything in our power to fix this situation up right. Thank-you, that is all. We will have on last day of classes for closure to this semester of your magical education. If your parents have any concerns about you falling behind, have them contact me and I shall give them a few pointers and guidelines," and with that, Dumbeldore seated himself again heavily, and began picking at his pancakes. The rest of the school did the same. Except the Gryffindors. They remained standing, linked, performing their various religious rituals, hoping against hope for the recovery of their fellow Gryffindors and the school.  
  
Glancing up, Dumbledore noticed this. After a few moments of observation, he slowly got up and made his way to the Gryffindor table. He gently broke apart Fred and George Weasley's hands and implanted himself into the circle. One by one, the rest of the teachers added their hands and hopes to the gigantic link. Then, the rest of the houses formed their own circles, and joined to each other. The entire Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was joined together peacefully for the first time since the creation of the school.  
  
  
  
Harry gathered his strength once again and began to struggle. He HAD to make it out of here! This cold, quiet, lonely black void was beginning to scare him, and Harry Potter was not easily scared.  
  
"WHY AM I STILL HERE?! WHO'S OUT THERE?! LET ME GO!!!" Harry roared for the millionth time. He bowed his head and tears of desperation began to slide down his face. "Let me go," he whispered.  
  
"Oh, now, don't go blubberin' on us. Just 'cause yer stuck down here in the dark don't mean you can't be a big boy still," a mocking voice spoke from somewhere out of the darkness. Harry's head snapped up as the speaker laughed softly and continued.  
  
"Yeah, that's right. The great Harry Potter a'goin' to die down here allllll by himself. Ye can fight Lord Voldewart and defeat him a couple times, but ye can't survive a silly potions accident. Aiy, that would be 'cause of our doing. We possess powerful magic, boy, and we will win. Perhaps we should keep you here until your physical body shrivels and you are no more. That would get you out of our hair, indeedy. Or perhaps we should release you. And make you fight," the cruel voice boasted.  
  
"I'd fight you any day!" Harry shouted back at the voice. "Just because you're too big of a coward to come out and face me doesn't mean I'm a coward, too! And I'm gonna make it outta here whether you want me too or not! Some silly little maroon sludge and silver stuff isn't going to kill ME!"  
  
"Maroon sludge? Silver stuff?" the voice asked, sounding a bit. well what was that tone? Could it possibly be. scared?  
  
"Yeah. Now come out where I can see you, you scardey cat!" Harry challenged, overlooking the fear previously detected in the voice.  
  
"Cat? Oh, no, I don't think so. But if ye'd really like ter see me," the voice was back to a mocking tone again.  
  
A pink, dry paw stepped out into the circle of light surrounding Harry. And slowly, the rest of the biggest, meanest, ugliest weasel Harry had ever seen followed. The weasel grinned and several jagged, yellow teeth showed. A cutlass glittered at his belt, and a bandana around his head (paired with other accessories) identified him as part of the rat gang. This must be the mastermind. But wasn't the leader supposed to be a king rat?  
  
The weasel drew his its cutlass and began advancing on Harry. He played with the teenage wizard's mind, going this way, that way, pretending to slide the cutlass back into his belt and then pulling it out again and brandishing it.  
  
"So, what're ye gonna do NOW, Harry Potter?" the weasel breathed.  
  
Harry's mind raced. What could he do? He wouldn't die in this big black void, he wouldn't! He had to see Hermione and Ron again, he knew they were worried. Suddenly Harry registered the fear he had heard in the weasel's voice earlier. Maroon sludge and silver stuff. That must be some sort of toxic mixture to gigantic rodents. But where would he get that stuff? He didn't even know what he'd made in potions class!  
  
A lump formed in Harry's pocket. He quickly pulled out a vial of silver fluid. Acidic Newt Serum. He weaved the glass vial in the weasel's face.  
  
"Hmmm.looks like a bottle of SILVER STUFF to me," Harry teased. "Perhaps I should observe the effects of it on, oh, let's say, WEASELS?!"  
  
The weasel hurriedly backed off, eyeing the vial fearfully. Harry uncorked the silver liquid and flung it at the villain. The weasel attempted to dodge the stream of sparkling serum, but a few droplets splashed onto his tail. Screaming and hopping around in a most comical manner, the weasel was a very amusing sight to Harry. Concentrating on the magical bonds holding him to the black void, Harry felt them snap as the weasel's attention was focused elsewhere.  
  
Harry looked up into the light, and felt himself rise.  
  
  
  
Ron and Hermione peered anxiously at Harry's face. His eyes. They were moving. And they were moving fast. All of a sudden, a smile curled onto Harry's stone face.  
  
"MADAME POMFREY, MADAME POMFREY, HE'S SMILING!" Hermione screamed to the witch in her office. She gripped Ron's arm so tightly he thought he was losing circulation.  
  
Just as Madame Pomfrey hurried out of her office and around the curtain surrounding Harry's bed, Harry's eyes suddenly snapped open. His entire body began trembling, and he was gasping for air. He looked like he was having some sort of seizure.  
  
When he caught sight of Hermione and Ron, he tried to focus and speak between gasps and convulsions.  
  
"I...I know..how..to..to.kill..kill..a..a.rat!"  
  
A/N: Well there you go. The fifth chapter. I'm sorry, I know it's really long, and I know a lot of it is really sad, but hey, at least I decided not to let Harry die! I know you're all grateful for that. And since I got no response at all as to the Ron/Hermione issue, I decided to keep it going with very subtle developments. So I suppose you could say this fic is turning into a little bit of romance, too, but trust me, it isn't the main idea. It's just a, well, side effect. If you want romance or fluff or whatever, you'll have to check out some other stories I'm planning on writing. Anyways, thanks for all the reviews! Especially to T. Cairpre, lupinsgal 06, and unown_wicken for reviewing since the last chapter. I have absolutely no idea what's going to happen next, but if I staid up until 4 last night writing this chapter, you know I'm serious about this and I won't leave anyone hanging! Man, it's time for a break.  
  
~*Mitie Mouse*~ 


	6. The Siege

I don't own anything you find in the actual Harry Potter books written by J.K. Rowling. She does, of course!  
  
  
  
Chapter Six: The Siege  
  
Ron couldn't help it any longer. He cried. He broke down and cried. Tears flowing, he smiled wider than he thought humanly possible. Harry! Harry was back!  
  
Hermione flung herself on to the violently shaking boy, not even noticing that he was having some troubles regaining access to the conscious world.  
  
"Oh, Harry, Harry you're back!" she cried, her face wet with tears of joy. "Harry, we thought you were gone! Don't leave me, Harry, don't ever do that again!"  
  
Harry barely noticed Hermione was talking to him. He noticed something heavy was pressing on his chest and making it extremely difficult to breath, but there was something more important.  
  
"I.know.how.to.kill.rat!" Harry gulped and choked once more. Why weren't they listening?! He had to make them understand!  
  
"Harry, what are you talking about? You've been unconcsious for the past six days, you couldn't possibly know anything about the rats!" Ron exclaimed incredulously.  
  
They were being difficult. He couldn't explain this to them now, he was too weak. He needed to talk to Dumbledore. Dumbledore would know.  
  
"Dumbledore. Dumbledore," Harry managed to gasp before collapsing back on his pillows and trying his hardest to stop the shaking. He needed air. Where was all the air?  
  
"You heard him, get Dumbledore!" Madame Pomfrey shouted, flustered. "Harry, Harry I need you to relax. No, don't be tense. Relax. Breathe. If you just hold still and lay there, you'll be able to stop shaking! Breathe, Harry, no, no don't panic!"  
  
The rest of Madame Pomfrey's instructions were drowned out as Ron and Hermione dashed to the gargoyle gaurding Proffessor Dumbledore's office. Ron stopped short as a discouraging thought suddenly fought its way into his head. They didn't know the password, how were they suppsed to get in?!  
  
"Ron, how're we supposed to get in?" Hermione asked expectantly. Well, Ron was a wizard from a family full of them, and maybe gaining access to the headmaster's office was common magical knowledge.  
  
"We have to have the password, Hermione, and we don't. Only Dumbledore and maybe the teachers know it. Bloody ridiculous plan if you ask me. Harry needs Dumbledore and he won't ever know it 'till he comes out for breakfast!"  
  
"Hmmm.magic word, magic word." Hermione pondered out loud.  
  
"Not magic WORD, Hermione. Sheesh, you muggle-reared wizards are all the same sometimes. Magic PASSWORD! And of COURSE it's magic, everything's magic here in case you hadn't noticed," Ron fumed in frustration.  
  
"Keep your temper, Ronald Hothead! So sorry I read FAIRY TALES when I was little. And I'll thank you not to stereotype me with anyone. Let alone insult my parents! I can't believe you just did that! Now if you'll excuse me, I may be on to something here!" Hermione snapped at Ron in response.  
  
Ron sighed. Fighting with Hermione had never gotten him anywhere but in a huge, pointless, miserable argument that lasted for weeks on end. When would he ever learn?  
  
"Magic word, magic word. AHHHH I hate this!" Hermione raged in frustration. Well, Ron thought, as long as she's not raging at me yet.  
  
Hermione stared at the gargoyle hard. Ron was just about to say something about her attempts at telekinesis failing, maybe they should go get a teacher and ask, when Hermione's eyes suddenly lit up like Harry's cauldron of maroon sludge. Ron grimaced. He needed to find a new simile.  
  
"I've got it!" Hermione cried. "Oh, I've really, really got it! I can't believe I couldn't think of it sooner!"  
  
"Well, Durenstein, what's your brilliant idea?" Ron asked sarcastically. He almost clobbered himself the minute it popped out of his mouth.  
  
"Uhhh.who's that?" Hermione asked, puzzled.  
  
"Just some really smart wizard dude that lived a long time ago," Ron explained dismissively.  
  
"Ohhh, like Einstein, ok, I got it," Hermione stated matter-of- factly.  
  
Ron decided not to ask.  
  
"Ok, so here we go. Muggles are always dreaming and thinking and writing about magic. Although they think it's not real, I was always really fascinated. You can imagine how completely elated I was when I found out I was a witch and it was not just a dream! Ok, right, anyway, Muggles have a saying. Whenever someone wants something and asks for it rudely, they always say 'What's the magic word?' And you know what the magic word is? PLEASE! So here we go, I think it'll work!"  
  
Hermione pulled out her wand, straightened up, and tapped the gargoyle with her wand. "Please!" she said loudly.  
  
Both teenagers waited with bated breath, hoping the gargoyle would let them in so they wouldn't have to go find a teacher in the gigantic castle.  
  
Amazingly, after a few seconds, the gargoyle swung open! Hermione smiled smuggly at Ron, and just before they started up the long, moving stairs, she said "And, by the way, the toilets aren't."  
  
Ron drew a complete blank and shook his head in bewilderment.and pure admiration for the resourceful, intelligent young witch standing in front of him. Now they could get Dumbledore to Harry as quickly as possible.  
  
  
  
"WHAT?!" Dumbledore rumbled when Ron timidly explained to him what had just taken place in the hospital wing. "First another letter from the rats, and now Harry's awake claiming he knows how to kill one! He didn't try to get out of bed and go after them, did he?!" Dumbeldore demanded.  
  
"N-n-no, Sir, I think he's still in the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey wouldn't let him out at any rate," Hermione stuttered. Another letter from the rats? The students had started packing yesterday, and they were all supposed to head home tomorrow. And now there was another letter?!  
  
"Well, I suppose I had better go down there, I'm sure Harry has a reasonable explanation for all of this. This is getting to be too much!" Dumbledore sighed. It wasn't like Dumbledore to be short or temperamentle at all. Apparently he was on a short fuse.  
  
"You two stay here, I don't need a big crowd in the hospital wing," Dumbledore called over his shoulder as he disappeared down the moving staircase.  
  
"Well that sort of leaves us in an awkward position, doesn't it?" Ron commented after a long silence.  
  
  
  
The entire school was down in the Great Hall, silently picking at what might be the last breakfast the Hogwarts kitchen would ever serve. No one was eating much. Ron and Hermione were eating less than everyone. What was Dumbledore planning on doing? And what, exactly, had that letter said? They had scouted around Dumbledore's office in an attempt to find it (Hey, it was anyone's business, right?) but it was hidden well. Wasn't Dumbledore going to share it with the students? Hadn't he said they deserved to know everything? And how was Harry doing? They hadn't been allowed back into the hospital wing after Dumbledore returned (which had taken a long, long time).  
  
Dumbledore stood up and cleared his throat. Ron and Hermione looked at each other knowingly. This was it. Either they'd be dismissed for a long vacation, or they'd be updated on the rat situation.  
  
"Students, a recent development in the rat situation has been brought to our attention. We received another message from the very villians themselves last night. But before we move on to that topic, I have some good news! The first in a very long time, in fact. Harry Potter pulled out of his coma last night and awoke! His condition is unstable, but we believe he will be all right after all," Dumbledore began. Cheers filled the Great Hall, especially from the Gryffindor table. "On to the rats. I will read aloud this message. This may be upsetting to a few of you, but this we can not ignore." With this, Dumbledore pulled a scroll identical to the first out of his sky blue robes. He unrolled it slowly, and the uncomfortable look on his face led Ron and Hermione to believe that this message was written in Neville's blood, as the first was meant to have been.  
  
"Evacuating the castle, are you?  
  
Running from the big bad rats.  
  
Such cowards you are, thinking you can hide,  
  
But not such a good idea is that!  
  
We warned you that you must play our game,  
  
But you seem not to have listened.  
  
Well now we're taking action,  
  
The rats have finally risen!  
  
The first little witch or wizard  
  
To step foot out that huge door,  
  
Will be extremely sorry they did so,  
  
And they will be no more.  
  
So try and run from us now,  
  
And you will be sorely disappointed,  
  
To find that we surround your pitiful castle,  
  
And dependable gaurdians we have appointed.  
  
Play, play, play our game!  
  
We demand that you follow our rules.  
  
We do have ways of making you suffer  
  
If you should choose to be insolent fools.  
  
A team we are choosing at this very moment.  
  
We'll give you some hints for time.  
  
The first, a very unlikely candidate,  
  
One so clever as to decipher our rhymes.  
  
But brains are not everything you will find,  
  
Some brawn is required to achieve balance.  
  
The next is obvious, and quite strong  
  
He has never declined a challenge!  
  
The third would have been one beloved to all,  
  
One bedecked in yellow.  
  
However, he is gone, and another must be chosen.  
  
Dark hair, a close female fellow.  
  
The fourth is one of brave heart shadowed,  
  
But the shadows shall no longer exist.  
  
Flaming hair adorns his hot head,  
  
And he'll be most likely to resist.  
  
The rest are still being deeply considered,  
  
Do not let your held breaths out yet.  
  
Our decisions are still in the making and none are as of yet concrete,  
  
And then we'll see whose doom will be met!"  
  
  
  
After a long silence, Ron cut through the thick air with an ironically light comment."Ok, THAT was officially freaky." Hermione looked at him, her eyes huge. She didn't quite know what to make of this message. But she had a hunch. One she'd rather not contemplate.  
  
"We've GOT to get this message to Harry, you KNOW he'll be chosen!" Hermione decided to say instead of what she was thinking. She tried not to even think it. And it WAS true. Harry was a given! But he didn't seem to fit any of those descriptions. And what HAD he been saying about killing the rats? Now that the rats were becoming very real, it looked as if they'd require that knowledge after all.  
  
Hermione grabbed Ron's hand and pulled him to the staff table, breakfast long since forgotten. She had to speak to Dumbledore, and she was sure Ron wanted to know everything that was said, so she saved time and dragged him along.  
  
Hermione was scared, but she needed to be brave. She had to get that message to Harry, and she had to figure it out. It would help so much if everyone already had a head start. But the rats had written their second message well, and things that were meant to be clear were clear, while those things meant to be vague were cleverly shrouded in confusion.  
  
When Hermione had finally fought her way to Dumbledore, she pulled Ron up next to her. "Proffessor Dumbledore," she gasped from running the whole way. "We HAVE to speak to Harry!"  
  
She didn't let go of Ron's hand. She held it all the way to the hospital wing, the quarrel of the previous night forgotten. Neither of them seemed to mind.  
  
  
  
A/N: Whoooo-hoooo, chapter 6!!! I'm so happy I got it out. I'm really sorry if some words are spelled kinda weirdly, my spellcheck seems to be totally broken. Also, it's been a while since I read some of the actual books, and I wasn't sure whether the statue in front of Dumbledore's office was a gargoyle or not, but I hope I'm right! Someone just please tell me if I'm not. Ok, so I got my first critical reviews this time around. I was wondering when someone wouldn't approve. ;). Sorry ya'll didn't quite find it as great as I had hoped I could make it, but I'll try and make everyone happy. I was having a hard time fitting some Ron and Hermione shtuff in this chapter, so I sorta squeezed it in at the end. Really weak, I know, and I'm sorry. I will admit, though, that it's a LIIIIITTLE lacking in the plot it's SUPPOSED to have (namely, the rats) so I did my best to bring them back in and get things moving. I included several little riddles in this chapter, let's see who can figure them out! Hehe. And you have to look beyond the poem as well. If anyone doesn't understand, I'll explain next chapter. Maybe that's what was missing Crystalite 104? ::crosses fingers, squeezes eyes shut:: Special thanks this chapter go to semdude (yeah, yeah, thanks little bro), JennyT, MagicalDreamz (did you end up having time to read my story, or were you just responding?), Bon (I don't suppose you'll see this since you stopped reading. Sorry about the rodents, and I'm sorry you don't like them. LoL), and Crystalite 104. Please keep reading, and just bear with my weird chapters that surface out of plowing through writer's blocks! ::coughcoughCHAPTER4coughcough:: Well, that's enough yapping from me, I'll have chapter 7 out sometime soon!  
  
~*Mitie Mouse*~  
  
P.S. Does anyone think maybe "The Clues" would be a better title? I kind of like "The Siege," but who knows, the chapter sort of has two main ideas. 


	7. The Team

1 Disclaimer: I own no previously established and published characters, settings, or situations of J. K. Rowling's brilliant Harry Potter series. I own only the rats and their gang that I have created, the plot, Nudanor Goroth (pronounced Noo-DAY-ner, Guh-ROTH, like chicken broth.), and Natalie Anduina (pronounced Natalie-you know that one, I hope- Anne-dew-EENA). Don't ask me why I spell them differently than they are pronounced, but they're mine and I can do what I want. Oh, man, just read the story!  
  
2  
  
3  
  
4 Chapter Seven: The Team  
  
  
  
Harry stared at the ceiling, breathing heavily. In. Out. In. Out. He sighed deeply. These past two weeks in the infirmary had been dull and dreary. If only he could get out of bed, walk around, help Hermione decipher the rat's riddle, or even join Ron in making fun of her for being so determined to do so, it would be some relief to his aching joints and troubled head. However, Madame Pomfrey would not let him out of the refuge of his clean, stiff bed. He didn't dare attempt anything either; for once he felt as weak as Madame Pomfrey claimed he was.  
  
Returning to full life force and function was proving much more difficult than Harry had originally thought. Dumbledore had faithfully visited the hospital wing every night, and one night he felt that Harry deserved to know exactly what had happened to him. Dumbeldore believed that the rats had gained more magic and power than they had ever had before. The spell that had entangled Harry in its foul clutches was beyond any fifth year student's knowledge and ability. Yes, even Hermione was uninformed as to its existence and workings. The rats had used a Mental Entrapping Curse on Harry's mind, forcing it to separate from his physical being and effectively holding it captive to their evil wills. It was the fourth, not widely known or used Unforgivable Curse. Not even Voldemort had mastered the technique well enough to use it without great risk.  
  
As if the Mental Entrapping Curse weren't difficult enough, and did not require enough mental and physical strength and magical capabilities to cast and maintain, it took an even more powerful being to enter the mind chamber of the victim. The curse created a sort of virtual world, something that was not there. And yet, there. To Harry's mind, it was all too real, but to anyone else, it seemed a mere dream. But they hadn't felt the pain, the panic, the suppressing darkness of the black void that had been Harry's prison for almost a week. He would swear upon his Firebolt that his hands had closed around that bottle of serum; his tears running down his haggard face were wet as the lake outside on the school grounds.  
  
In. Out. In. Out. This was getting altogether ridiculous. He, Harry Potter, the Boy Wonder, The Boy Who Lived, was lying in a hospital bed concentrating on his mere BREATHING, struggling to regain normal physical function after surviving an evil curse. At least he knew now that it had not been a simple potions accident that had caused the fight for his life that had come so close to resulting in his death.  
  
In. Out. In. Out. Harry, of course, blamed himself for the capture of Neville. Poor Neville. He never saw it coming. He was the perfect target, nearly helpless and easily frightened into shock. All the smoke caused by the explosion of Harry's cauldron had made it so easy for the rats, and whatever creatures they had enlisted to aide them, to slip in, grab Neville with a quick curse, and slip out. Perhaps they even had Neville under a similar Mental Entrapping Curse, who knew? The fact that they had been there to catch Harry and Neville proved that they were everywhere, hidden sinister eyes watching everything that went on in the castle. Although it had been two weeks since the message informing the school of the siege, Harry knew they were there. The school was growing restless, and they did not understand why they couldn't just go home now. But Harry knew, Harry knew. Luckily, Dumbledore knew as well.  
  
In. Out. In. Out. Ron and Hermione had come so quickly and urgently to his hospital bed that night. They had heard the message, and they knew Harry would never forgive them for leaving him out. All the clues. They made no sense. No sense at all. All Hermione ever did these days was lock herself in her dormitory or curl up on the couch in front of the common room fire, wracking her brain as to who these people could possibly be. Sometimes she'd pull up a chair next to Harry's bed and do the same. Harry missed the days when Ron and Hermione used to come together more than once every day, and they all had fun together (well, as much fun as Harry could have, lying in a hospital bed with sheets so white they positively shined pulled up to his chin, and his body trembling with effort if he even tried to sit up by himself). But Hermione was completely zoned out, and so worried that black circles were starting to form under her troubled eyes. Harry couldn't bear to see her like this, and sent her to bed early every night with instructions to sleep when she came to see him in the evenings (the one time in the day Ron came with her). But he knew she didn't sleep, and he worried. Something like this could happen to her if she didn't rest. He promised himself he'd take that approach next time he talked to her.  
  
In. Out. In. Out. Harry sighed deeply. What had happened to his perfect life? Voldemort had shown no signs of returning, Ron and Hermione seemed to finally be getting along with no bumps in the road (Harry had thought that this may be the year they'd finally get together), he was doing wonderfully in his classes and liked them all, too. The Dursleys had even lightened up a bit, fearing the new glint in Harry's eyes, he new skills he had mastered (and he hadn't seen the need to inform them that the same rules applied to these new skills as the old magic "tricks"), and above all, the fear of the murderous Sirius still loomed over the household.  
  
In. Out. In. Out. It was gone. All gone. Shattered by the scratching, scrabbling, rough pink paw of a rodent so loathsome Harry had to struggle to keep himself in his bed rather than leaping out to go find the rats. It was gone. Blown away by the winds of despair and danger. Gone.  
  
In. Out. In. Out.  
  
  
  
  
  
Hermione whipped up another mug of coffee, rich and warm as anything her mother had managed with water and store-bought grounds. She lifted it to her mouth and took a deep drought. It warmed her insides pleasantly, and gave her tired brain a surprising jolt. Her eyes snapped open once more, and she pored over the message for the literal billionth time. She didn't know what to make of it. She just didn't.  
  
Well, that wasn't the complete truth. Though she had decided early on that she wouldn't tell anyone anything until she was absolutely sure of the entire message, she had at least gotten somewhere. She knew who the friend of the boy in yellow was. That had been the easiest clue to decipher. However, the strong one was giving her problems. She hadn't even begun to think about the clever, unlikely member. And she knew one other.  
  
She didn't believe it. It couldn't be true. She wouldn't let it be true. She just wouldn't think about it tonight. So there, evil, stinking rats. Take that! "HAHAHAHAHAHA DON'T KNOW WHAT TO MAKE OF THAT ONE, NOW DO YA?!" she cackled in the dim light from the dying fire.  
  
Ron slipped down the stairs from the fifth year boy's dormitory just in time to catch Hermione's crazed, teasing comment. He knew instantly who she was "talking to." It had been the only thing her brain had been capable of concentrating fully on for three weeks. He didn't know how she managed full marks on all her schoolwork still, but he knew that schoolwork had ceased to require her entire brain capacity, no matter how much she denied it.  
  
Ron approached her, coughing loudly so as not to startle her by a surprise appearance. She swiveled around and took in the sight. A tall boy, muscular and erect, handsome and kind, with flaming red hair to top it all off, coming near her with a look of concern in his eyes. That dang look of concern. Why did it haunt her so much these days?! Harry had it, Ron had it, Parvati and Lavender had it, Professor McGonagall had it, Professor Dumbledore had it. They all had it when they looked at her, weary and muttering, often delirious. Why couldn't she get away from it?!  
  
Ron's concern deepened as Hermione began muttering something about a look haunting her. What was she talking about? She obviously needed sleep, and badly. He was going to make sure she got it tonight.  
  
"You're right, Ron, it's time to go visit Harry now. We'd better go or he'll wonder if a dragon has eaten us. You know how upset he gets when we can't make it, and he gets so bored in that forsaken hospital wing," Hermione sighed, reluctant to leave her thoughts.  
  
Ron didn't mention that it was midnight, and they had already been to see Harry that night. In fact, the sickly black-haired Boy Wonder would undoubtedly be asleep by now, exhausted from his evening stretches that Madame Pomfrey forced him to do. "Can't let those muscles grow too stiff! Though your bones and body aren't ready for you yet, you'll need those muscles soon, and what good will they be to you if you can't move them?" she always said with great enthusiasm. Though she felt there was absolutely no disadvantage to them, Ron knew that they were painful and tiring to Harry, so weak that sitting up by himself was strenuous activity.  
  
"Hermione, I know Harry loves us to visit, but really, this is getting ridiculous. You haven't slept in what must be three days straight. And if you don't stop drinking this confounded Buttercoffee, you'll die of overdose, I'm sure! Now, I remember Harry telling me he was worried about you not getting enough sleep, and he told me to make sure you slept at least once a week. The end of the week is here, and I'm sure Harry wouldn't mind not seeing you tonight if it meant you'd be getting some much needed and well deserved rest," Ron said gently and quietly.  
  
"No, Ron, no. I can't sleep. I have to figure this out, everyone needs me to so much," Hermione muttered, squinting down at the filthy, crumpled, stained parchment copy of the message sitting in her lap. It had eluded her keen mind long enough, she was going to figure this out tonight!  
  
Ron suddenly came to life, snatching the parchment out of Hermione's lap. "Hermione whatever your middle name is Granger, I'm confiscating this until YOU get sleep! I have a right to as stated in the, uh, the, um, well, the Ron Has Power To Do Anything He Wants Concerning The People He Loves law passed, uh, RIGHT NOW!" he stated officially and with a wave of his wand (always stashed down his sock or someplace like that), the parchment disappeared in a puff of smoke.  
  
"RONALD WEASLEY, IF ANYTHING'S HAPPENED TO THAT PARCHMENT, AND KNOWING YOUR HISTORY WITH WANDWORK I'M SURE IT HAS, I'M GOING TO SKIN YOU ALIVE AND HAND YOU OVER TO DUMBLEDORE HIMSELF!" Hermione screeched in vain.  
  
As Hermione's tired efforts at screaming at Ron died in inaudible splutters, Ron sat down gingerly next to Hermione. "Hermione," he spoke soothingly. "No one expects you to figure this out. The whole staff is on it, and if they can't do it, no one can. And I assure you, the most important thing is the well being of every student in this school. That means that we need to do our best against the rats, but it also means that we need to take care of ourselves, or we can't possibly do our best. Herm, sweetie, you need some sleep," he continued as he placed a hand on either of Hermione's shoulders and began to rub all the knots out of her tense muscles.  
  
"But, but, but Ron, I," Hermione began halfheartedly. She was actually beginning to fall asleep right here with Ron talking and acting so quietly and gently like that. Why couldn't he see she was trying to do something here? She needed to concentrate, to stay focused. Sleep was the last thing on her list, and she wasn't nearly there yet.  
  
"No buts. Come on, Herm, I need you to sleep," he whispered, and gently pulled her head down onto his broad shoulder. He stroked her hair, which didn't seem so frizzy after all, and whispered a soft lullaby into her ear. She snuggled against his warm, safe body, repositioning herself against his chest to get more comfortable. Within minutes, she was fast asleep against Ron.  
  
Ron smiled down at the beautiful angel asleep on his shoulder. How could he ever have spoken harsh words about and to her? How could he ever have thought this amazing creature was annoying, a know-it-all, a nuisance? Ok, so she WAS a know-it-all, but in the BEST sense, of course. He wanted nothing more than to just keep his arms wrapped around her, keep her close for as long as possible, but he knew he couldn't. The best place for her was her room, and the best place for him was his. That way, they'd both sleep as comfortably and as much as they needed to.  
  
Ron reluctantly shifted himself until he was kneeling before Hermione, and ever so gently, as if she were glass, lifted her from the soft couch. Cradling her like a small child, her head against his shoulder once more (and indeed she was much smaller than he was, after his summer growth spurt) he walked ever so carefully and gently up the carpeted stairs to fifth year girl's dormitory. He freed one hand and knocked softly on the door. No answer. It being 12:30 AM, he suspected all the girls were asleep. Cracking the door open and peeking in carefully, he confirmed his suspicions.  
  
Slipping through the door, cautious so as not to bump Hermione against anything, he made his way to the only empty bed in the dormitory. The thick, warm covers were already pulled back, as if everything had been made ready to receive the slumbering angel. He laid her gently in her bed, and pulled the covers up to her chin, tucking her in tightly and protectively.  
  
"Goodnight, Hermione Know-It-All Granger. Have dreams as sweet as you are." And with that, he leaned over and kissed her pale cheek softly.  
  
He made his way to the door, and was gone.  
  
Hermione was completely unaware of these happenings, though her dreams conveyed something of the sort. Visions of a certain redheaded fifteen- year-old Gryffindor boy floated through her exhausted head. Echoes of "Herm, sweetie," and "the Ron Has Power To Do Anything He Wants Concerning The People He Loves law" were rebounding through the canyons of sleep.  
  
  
  
  
  
Hermione, sitting beside Ron at the Gryffindor table a few mornings later, was amazed to discover how much BETTER she felt. After Ron's very *convincing* argument, she realized that sleep was the best thing for her. She had been getting much more of it lately, a great pressure having lifted off her shoulders, and she felt as if she never wanted to see another mug of Buttercoffee as long as she lived.  
  
Poking her fork into her nearly empty plate of fruit and toast, she sighed contentedly. She knew the rats were still a threat, but she had just relaxed, and things seemed much better. She hadn't really looked at the message since that fateful night, and it barely entered her thoughts. Everyone suspected she had simply forgotten about the rats altogether. She set her fork next to her plate with a soft clink, and looked into Ron's face. He was still eating without showing signs of stopping. 'Boys,' she sighed inwardly. She had not been surprised at all when Madame Pomfrey had informed her that Harry's appetite was quickly returning, and since he had been eating more, his strength was also increasing.  
  
Sensing her intense gaze, Ron looked up, chewing a bite of bacon. He looked from side to side, and then back to Hermione. "Everything all right, Hermione?" he asked uncomfortably.  
  
AGH, he had called her Hermione again! Where had the "Herm" gone? She had really liked it. He had been doing that lately. Acting totally different than he had that night. If she hadn't known that she had fallen asleep on the couch downstairs, and ended up in her bed upstairs, she would never believe it had actually happened. He was acting so DIFFERENT. It was like nothing had occurred between them out of the ordinary.  
  
'Well,' she thought in an attempt at carelessness. 'That just means he was being a good friend, nothing more.' Realizing that Ron was still waiting for an answer, that dratted look of concern creeping back into his eyes, she quickly replied.  
  
"Oh, yes, fine, everything's just fine!" she nearly shouted falsely. After a moment longer of staring into her eyes, searching for the truth (and Hermione sweating with the effort of keeping the lie out of her eyes and at the same time about to faint from the undivided attention) Ron shrugged and returned to his breakfast, nothing hindering his hunger.  
  
Dumbledore stood up and cleared his throat. He reached into his robes and pulled out an old, beaten looking scroll. Hermione's breath caught in her throat, and she involuntarily clutched Ron's arm. She knew what was coming. She had seen in before. Several times before. And she had come to dread it even more than bad marks.  
  
"Students," Dumbledore called for attention. "I stand before you once more to announce that we have received another message from the rats. But first of all, it has come to my attention that a few of you are becoming careless. Carelessness leads to injury, and by no means shall I tolerate unnecessary injury at my school. The rats have lain seemingly dormant for a few weeks now, and some of you believe the threat has completely passed. Let this be a warning to you that until the game is over, they will not leave. Now, on to the message. I think you'll find this one important, so listen closely." Dumbledore cleared his throat one last time, and began.  
  
"Dormant, you think we are?  
  
We laugh at your idiocy!  
  
We will never be so stupid and careless,  
  
Nor will we ever have such pity, you see.  
  
To get our delightful game moving again,  
  
We communicate this time here  
  
To let you know who we've chosen.  
  
The true beginning is quite near!  
  
We know that one among you has spent many a long hour  
  
Thinking, guessing, rethinking, and reguessing  
  
The clever clues we had previously dropped,  
  
But with these matters none of you fools should be messing.  
  
We will know reveal the chosen handful  
  
Here it comes, the select few.  
  
From all kinds of people we've selected the team,  
  
Red, yellow, green, and blue.  
  
The first, the strength, the oldest as well.  
  
Not quite young as the rest, but ever eager.  
  
Oliver Wood, the old Quiddith lion  
  
He has proved himself to be never meager.  
  
The next, the friend of yellow  
  
The dark-haired beauty still mourning.  
  
Co Chang shall replace her fallen love,  
  
Though blue she is officially adorning.  
  
Skipping on to one unhinted,  
  
The third comes as a surprise to no one.  
  
Harry Potter, the old scar face, The Boy Who Lived  
  
Though he now lies weak and alone.  
  
A fourth to balance the colors and add malice,  
  
Throwing green into the mush pot.  
  
Draco Malfoy shall join the rest.  
  
We trust his slippery resourcefulness won't let him be easily caught.  
  
The lions are found the bravest opponents,  
  
Therefore as a fifth we add another.  
  
Shadows removed, Ronald Weasley is chosen.  
  
His flaming hair not the only thing making him stand out as a unique other.  
  
There seems to be a lack of an overly clever member.  
  
Therefore as the sixth we add she who managed the most part to clear our words.  
  
Hermione Granger we've had our eye on since the beginning,  
  
She'll prove the true nature of so-called nerds.  
  
An unknown seventh identity must be chosen  
  
To complete the Hogwarts rainbow.  
  
Nudanor Goroth of the badger mark  
  
Will have his own seeds of glory to sew.  
  
The team is growing quite large, but we cannot stop,  
  
One more member, the eighth we add to attempt our game.  
  
Natalie Anduina will also represent the winged.  
  
Perhaps she'll be the one to bring them fame.  
  
Now you know who we deem worthy,  
  
Of these people we expect great things.  
  
Pity, really, they all have to vanish and one must die,  
  
But our chief's heart with joy at the beginning now sings!  
  
A meeting of the team is now in order,  
  
Everyone keep his or her eyes and ears now peeled.  
  
We'll make the first move, of course,  
  
And then the fate of all shall be sealed!"  
  
Here Dumbledore halted. The message was read; there were no more words. Tears were running down Cho Chang's face, tears of memories and fear. Natalie had approached her and kneeled by her chair, and the Ravenclaws were now contemplating their future. Poor Nudanor, already suffering leaving his faraway homelands for this new school in his third year was now dreading being the youngest member of the team. Draco, foul person that he usually was, was simply smirking amid the pats on the back and encouragements from his fellow Slytherins. Ron was glaring at his empty plate, his eyes full of surprise and disbelief. Hermione gaped at Dumbledore, completely frozen.  
  
Ron, yes, yes she had suspected Ron. The shadows (resulting from his friendship with the famous Harry Potter), the red hair, they had all pointed to him. And she hadn't wanted to believe it. But no wonder she hadn't been able to guess the strong member. Oliver Wood had graduated two years ago! There must be some mistake. Harry was expected to be a member, though no clue regarding him had been dropped. Cho, yes, Cho was Cedric's "close friend." Though she was a Ravenclaw and not a Hufflepuff, she was the closest person to him, and she therefore took his place. Draco was chosen because he was a twit, and the overall leader of Slytherin. The others were most likely chosen to balance the ages, abilities, and Houses of the team. But, Hermione Granger? HERMIONE?! She, Hermione had been chosen. She, Hermione, was the "clever" one the rats had spoken of. She, Hermione had been as obvious as Harry in their eyes. But why?  
  
She forcefully unlocked her eyes from Dumbledore. She refocused them with great effort on Ron, who was still staring at his plate, as though willing it to shatter and in doing so, shatter this horrible nightmare. "Ron," she whispered.  
  
He looked up at her with the same effort she had previously exerted in looking elsewhere herself. His eyes betrayed his fear, and for once he didn't seem to be the brave, safe, secure tower rising against the darkness he had been earlier. He shrank from the task, a whimpering, scared puppy. And Hermione couldn't do anything for him. She was as frightened herself.  
  
Hermione reached out for the flame headed teenager, and managed to grasp his trembling arm. She squeezed his arm comfortingly. She managed a small, sad smile. "Well, Ron Hothead, I guess we'll finally both be in on the action this time, too."  
  
Ron looked down at her, though it seemed that she had grown taller and braver than he. He nodded slowly. Suddenly, his eyes rolled back into his head and he slumped against Hermione, completely blacked out.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Yep, I got it out. I finally got it out. I had family over for Christmas, and I didn't have much time to write more than the sixth chapter. Ok, ok, I know the whole Hermione, Ron, and Harry together in the fight plot is completely unoriginal, but one thing led to another, and I couldn't leave any of them out! I actually contemplated excluding Harry from the team. But then what would the use of the Mind Entrapping Curse and the whole potions fiasco be?! Yeah, that was my reasoning. So, why was Oliver Wood chosen to be on the team? You'll have to read and find out, won't you? Hehehe. (At least, I THINK I know why he was chosen. LoL.) So, I know one of you figured Ron out early on. Come on, flaming hair, brave heart shadowed? But didn't anyone get Hermione? Ok, ok, I'll have to admit, I had no idea who the "strong" one was going to be when I wrote that message from the rats, but it works out nicely, doesn't it? Now I just need to explain my loophole well enough to be believable. So, when I get back from the slopes (which, sadly, means no eighth chapter for a while), the real action begins! The team is chosen! What will happen next? Well, I'll be danged if I know, but I have a whole week to think about it. ;). I'm, sorry that I made an huge part of the chapter focus on Ron/Hermione (the "side effect"), but I just couldn't resist, and it's supposed to tide you over for an entire week, right? Right. Sooooo, that's enough rambling from this totally hooked author, I hope the few of you who actually read this faithfully didn't think I had abandoned you! Special thanks this time around go to fire-enchantment and Crystalite 104 (you'll have to wait to find out about Voldemort, that's one part of the plot I actually have planned!) who were the ONLY TWO to review this time. Thanks, guys! Ok, I'll be going now. (. Happy reading, writing, and a Happy New Year!  
  
~*Mitie Mouse*~ 


	8. The Meeting

Just like always and everyone, I own nothing that you see in the original Harry Potter books by J.K. Rowling. Only things that are new here are mine. Thank-you.  
  
P.S. Spell Check is STILL not working. Sorry for the inconvenience misspellings cause (And I KNOW I must have misspelled a gillian words in that sentence!).  
  
  
  
Chapter Eight: The Meeting  
  
Harry took a deep breath. Gathering all his strength, he pushed himself up into a sitting position on his pillows with considerable effort. Settling back onto his pillows (more like slightly slumping onto them) he smiled with satisfaction. He had managed to sit up all by himself again! His strength was definitely returning. If only it didn't take so LONG for him to get it all back!  
  
Pushing aside his thoughts, he eyed the people filing in through the hospital wing door and huddling around his bed. So, this was the rats' team. These were the people that were all going to work together and save Hogwarts. Ron, Hermione, Draco ("drat" he sighed to himself as he saw the familiar gelled blonde hair and sickly smug smile), Cho (Harry blushed slightly and had to work extremely hard to erase the evidence), Natalie, Nudanor, and Oliver. OLIVER?! Harry stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the graduated wizard. What was HE doing here?! Wasn't it supposed to be just students?  
  
Harry couldn't help it. He was too curious. Little did he know, the entire team was just itching to know why Oliver had been chosen to be a part of the team.  
  
"Er, Oliver?" Harry ventured timidly.  
  
Oliver, looking slightly embarrassed and bemused, smiled a little too cheerfully. "How are ya old chap? Looking good, looking good! Well, considering the circumstances anyway. Listen, I heard about your little accident. Nearly gave me a heart attack. I thought 'What will Gryffindor do without the best Seeker it's had since the days of James Potter?' I was certain it'd be bloody difficult for another go at the Quidditch Cup. Haha, little did I know there wasn't likely to BE any Quidditch this year. Bad luck, I say, bloodly bad luck. They just seem to cancel Quidditch left and right these days, don't they? Sorry about that, Harry. I'm sure you'll get another chance next year, if'n you get strong enough. I mean, it's only your fifth year, and you still got the old Firebolt. Don't you worry old boy, you'll get another go at it. And you WILL get better, at least enough to play, that I can feel in my bones."  
  
"Oliver?" Natalie asked pointedly, interrupting the old Gryffindor Quidditch captain's rambling  
  
"Yes?" Oliver asked, stringing it together with his previous speech, not even pausing to breathe.  
  
"Shut-up."  
  
"Yes ma'am."  
  
Harry finally smiled. At least he wasn't the only one just a little nervous and confused about all of this. (Well, besides Ron, who looked like he had twenty ulcers.) "Oliver, I think we're all just a little curious as to why you're here. Do you have any idea why the rats consider you a student and chose you for the team?" Harry finally asked for the entire group.  
  
"Well, um, you see, uh, no," Oliver choked out.  
  
"That didn't sound very convincing," Hermione accused. "Are you sure there's something you're not telling us?"  
  
"Not telling you? What would I POSSIBLY have to hide? There's nothing, nothing I tell you. Just a simple mistake, that's all," Oliver shrugged suspiciously.  
  
Natalie walked up to Oliver and took his ear between her long fingers. Squeezing tight and pulling, she looked Oliver in the eye. "Spill."  
  
"Yes ma'am," Oliver gasped. Natalie let go of his ear and he began to talk.  
  
"Ya see, it's quite simple. A little embarrassing, I'll admit, but simple nonetheless. And I suppose you should all know. I, well, I, ya see, it, I, uh, oh dear."  
  
Fourteen eyes stared at him, waiting. Why did they all have to DO that? Couldn't they just accept his previous explanation of a fluke? He had hoped to keep it all a secret. Well, here goes. He'd have to tell them sometime, or Hermione would figure it out and broadcast it across the entire school. THAT was something he definitely wanted to avoid. Taking a deep breath, he prepared to start over again.  
  
At that moment, Dumbledore came bursting through the door and striding toward the group. "Students," he said as he approached the huddle. "I think there's something you'd be very interested in on the third floor."  
  
Scrambling over one another they rushed at the door, eager and slightly afraid to witness this new development. The last one disappeared out the door, not even bothering to close it. As their voices faded down the hallway, Harry stared angrily at the shadowy, gaping doorway. Had they forgotten all about him? Unlike THEM he couldn't go cavorting across the castle any time of the day or night. And they didn't even know where on the third floor or what they were even looking for! Really, they needed to think things out a little more. And he'd expected more out of Hermione.  
  
Dumbledore looked up at the ceiling. He was aware of Harry's anger, and he was also aware that it was simply misplaced. There was no reason to suspect the group of stupidity and forgetfulness.  
  
"3. 2. 1," he spoke softly.  
  
Exactly after the count of 1, Hermione came hurrying through the door, followed by the rest of the team.  
  
"Yes, yes, right, we don't know where to go. Proffessor Dumbeldore, would you mind telling us what exactly we're looking for? And Harry, I suppose we should bring Harry," Hermione muttered, staring at the floor. The rest of the team were mumbling similar things.  
  
Dumbeldore smiled to himself.  
  
  
  
"Ouch!" Hermione heard once again from the horizontal stretcher. She sighed. She knew Harry was a little irritated about the team forgetting him and the fact that he had to tag along on a magical stretcher seeing nothing due to having to lay completely flat. But really, did he have to be so ANNOYING?! Didn't he realize that she had to put a LOT of effort into holding up and guiding the stretcher down the hallway?  
  
The brilliant girl smiled mischiviously and flicked her wand nonchalantly. Harry's stretcher twitched to the side again and Harry's head bumped against the wall.  
  
"OUCH!" Harry yelled with more emphasis. What had gotten into Hermione? What had HE done? Didn't she know that it HURT when she bumped his head up against a wall like that?! He knew that it took absolutely no effort to float a magical stretcher down a hallway.  
  
He was gravely mistaken, as Hermione knew.  
  
Hermione caused another collision of Harry's head and the wall (this time it was a real accident).  
  
"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOUCH!!!!" Harry practically screamed from the stretcher.  
  
"OH HARRY, WOULD YOU JUST SHUT UP!?" Ron yelled in exasperation from behind the stretcher. Harry was getting really obnoxious, and he knew Hermione was probably getting tired of lugging the Boy Wonder in a stretcher all the way to the third floor.  
  
"Really, Potter, is your head THAT delicate? Or did it just swell to twenty billion times its normal size from all that false praise? I suppose it's sort of like when an egg swells with water. It gets extremely soft from all that extra weight, does it not?" Draco drawled from his position at the front of the group. He would have liked to be LEADING the group, but of course, Dumbledore had appointed Natalie and Oliver (the two oldest members of the group) to go in the front.  
  
"Malfoy, I suggest you shut your mouth and begin acting as a part of this team. Unless, of course, you'd rather die at the hands of a bacteria- breeding, disease-carrying, no good, lousy, sewer scum," Oliver scolded irritably.  
  
"All right, all right, ya big lug, I get the picture! Fine. So if we're a team, what EXACTLY are we supposed to do up here?!" Malfoy snapped before Oliver could continue on forever.  
  
"THAT depends on the rats, remember?" Hermione piped up from the back, absent-mindedly floating Harry's stretcher. There were no more complaints from Harry, even though the stretcher continued to bump into things occasionally.  
  
"Well, Dumbledore DID send us up here to investigate something. Seems to me the rats have already made their move," Nudanor said thoughtfully. "By the way, DID anybody by any chance think to ask Dumbledore exactly what we're looking for up here?"  
  
Embarrassed, sheepish silence was the only thing that met Nudanor's question.  
  
Suddenly, when the team was just about to give up and go back to the hospital wing and call it a day, a shout rang out from the front of the mob.  
  
"Natalie, what is it?" Ron called.  
  
"THAT!" Natalie screamed again, pointing at the floor.  
  
Ron and Hermione fought their way forward through the small crowd of young witches and wizards. Harry lay abandoned on the stretcher on the floor. He sighed again, and settled down to stare tranquilly at the ceiling while everyone ELSE was busy screaming and exclaiming at the exciting thing they could see. Oh, well, he could wait. He'd gotten pretty good at the patience thing since being hurt.  
  
Oliver gasped as he followed Natalie's gaze. He could feel Cho's strong, Seeker fingers closing around his arm, clenching in fear. He gritted his teeth as her grip got tighter and tighter.  
  
Hermione shoved Draco aside none-too-gently and surveyed the floor. A trail of small, blood red footprints was leading toward the wall. And that wasn't the strangest part. The footprints stopped at the wall. Stopped dead. Didn't turn, didn't climb, didn't go under. Stopped. Where had the rat gone?  
  
"Harry, come quick! You HAVE to see this!" Ron called back.  
  
"Gee, Ron, I'd love to. Under normal circumstances, I'd be racing to your assistance, but at the moment, it is a slightly difficult thing for me to do," Harry spoke in extremely false pleasant tones.  
  
"Oh, yeah, forgot," Ron grunted apolegetically. He shoved Draco back to where he'd been before Hermione had done the same and made his way back to the stretcher. Using his wand, he levitated the stretcher, floated it to the front of the group, and elvated it to a vertical incline. Harry's eyes widened as he saw the trail of footprints.  
  
"Whoa."  
  
A/N: HA! I got it out! I got chapter eight out! I'm sorry that one took so long (although there really aren't that many of you that actually read this on a regular basis, but hey), I had the biggest case of writer's block in the history of my fanfics. THAT is where "To Dream of the Moon" came from. Writer's block on "The Rats." Well, I hope to prove that just b/c I'm working on two fics at once, doesn't mean I neglect one or the other. I'll try my best. Really. Hope you guys like it! And pleeeeeeease read "Dream," please! I think that one has just as much potential as this one. And there's an interesting twist that really makes it different. A big thanks to Buckbeak, Mackadoodle, Melodi, (thanks, guys, for reading my fics- sometimes in school AND here! LoL) Caylen Ryder, hermione radcliffe (as always-thanks again for everything!), and Crystalite 104!! Thanks so much for reviewing, and I hope you haven't totally given up on me! Hope you enjoyed chapter eight, and I'll try my best not to take so long on chapter nine. I'll be going now, school night. ::sigh:: Bye!  
  
~*Mitie Mouse*~ 


	9. The First Encounter

I own nothing and everything. Nothing that you've seen before and everything that you haven't. Take your pick.  
  
Chapter Nine: The First Encounter  
  
"I don't understand it! They started from one wall, and ended at the other. Where could they have gone?!" Hermione raged in frustration and confusion.  
  
"Heck, maybe the question we need to be asking is where they started from," Ron added in a drastically less concerned manner. He was concentrating on a chess board laid out between Harry's bed and Ron's chair. He was going to win again, of course.  
  
"Gee, Ron, can't you let me win at least once? Besides, NORMAL people have pity on their friends who are stuck in the hospital with no people to see them all day, and lessons to do all by themselves and a witch nurse breathing down their back worried that their head is going to fall off any second or something!" Harry whined teasingly.  
  
"Just because you can't go anywhere without someone lugging you, and you don't have any company in here but Madame Pomfrey and the occasional Peeves doesn't mean I'm going to go easy on you. Besides, I DO want to make the score four-thousand, five-hundred, sixty-THREE, don't I?" Ron replied monotonously, keeping his focus on the game. He was a ruthless player, one like you'd never seen before, and would most likely never see again. It was the one thing Ron had on Harry in most people's eyes.  
  
"Don't you mean four-thousand, five-hundred, sixty-three to one?" Harry asked mischievously, his eyebrows raising sharply.  
  
"Oh, yeah, right, uh, forgot about that," Ron muttered sheepishly. So Harry DID remember that one game. Of course he would, it was the only one he'd ever won!  
  
"EXCUSE ME GENTLEMAN! We have a JOB to do here. It is our responsibility to save our entire school from some mob of filthy over-grown rodents! Can't you people understand that?! We NEED to work!" Hermione screamed in Ron's ear.  
  
"Sheesh, Mione, it's not like we have anything to do. Can't you just calm down for two seconds and realize we're not getting anywhere?" Ron asked calmly, putting Harry into check as he spoke.  
  
"Seriously, Hermione, how long can you think about something and get nowhere before you quit?!" Harry spoke a little less calmly. As he did this he absent-mindedly made a move. And put himself right into checkmate.  
  
"CHECKMATE! AH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA I WIN AGAIN I WIN AGAIN!" Ron yelled, jumping up and dancing around the hospital wing.  
  
"Oh, Hermione, LOOK what you made me do!" Harry accused, fuming slightly.  
  
"Honestly, you BOYS are no better than house elves! I'm going back to the third floor to look at the prints," Hermione stated dismissively.  
  
As she strode briskly and purposefully toward the stairs that led to the third floor, all Hermione's anger at the two boys melted away. Only one thought remained in her head by the time she reached the first staircase.  
  
'He called me Mione again."  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
  
  
  
  
"Maaaaaaaaassssssssteeeeeeeeeeeeeer," a husky voice hissed from the shrouded darkness. "Maaaaaaaaaaaaasssteeeeeeeeeeeer, we have leeeeeeeeft the cluuuuuuuuuuuuuuuue."  
  
"Wonderful. And did you make SURE to leave only one trail?" a cold voice demanded harshly from some unseen place.  
  
"Yeeeeeeeees, maaaaaaaaaaaasssteeeeeeer, only ooooooooooooooooone traaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaail."  
  
"And you made SURE to leave a paw print on the wall? They must be able to touch it, or our efforts are wasted."  
  
"Paw print on the waaaaaaall? Maaaaaaaaasssteeeeeeeer, I, we, it, you, we don't remeeeeeeeember a paaaaaaaaawprint in the plaaaaaaaan." The voice hissed nervously.  
  
"YOU DIDN'T LEAVE A PAWPRINT ON THE WALL?!"  
  
********************************************************************  
  
  
  
  
  
Hermione sat down huffily, her back against the wall. She had thought that she might at least get some inspiration from being near the paw prints, but nothing had come to her for a full half hour. She supposed she might as well go back to hospital wing.  
  
"Hermione! Harry and Ron said you'd be here. Trying to figure more out, eh?" Nudanor called cheerfully, slicing the thick silence with his perpetually enthusiastic voice.  
  
Hermione jumped, then realized it was just Nudanor. "Oh, hello Nudanor. I was just trying to figure this bloody clue out," Hermione sighed. She had noticed that Nudanor Goroth had been following her around quite often. Though it did get annoying sometimes, Hermione couldn't deny that she was glad to have some company. She had realized how foolish she had been to wonder off alone, much less to the very site of the first clue. But she was too proud and annoyed with Harry and Ron to go back to the hospital wing.  
  
"Well, I've come to help you! No clue stands a chance with Nudanor Goroth on the job!" the slightly plump Hufflepuff cried happily.  
  
Hermione smiled a little. Nudanor was always cheerful, always confident. She knew perfectly well that the least likely person to figure this out was the brightly grinning boy just plopping down next to her.  
  
"I don't know. It's just so, well, confusing. How is anyone supposed to figure this out? What's it supposed to MEAN?" Hermione groaned in frustration.  
  
"Don't get yourself so worked up about it. I mean, nothing's worse than stressing that pretty head of yours. Now, let's see if we can't calmly and rationally come up with a few explanations for what happened here, or what we're supposed to conclude from this display," Nudanor said seriously, frowning for the first time in concentration.  
  
"Wow, I never knew you were so eloquent," Hermione commented in amazement.  
  
"I'm not! To tell you the truth, I looked all those words up in the dictionary before I came here," Nudanor laughed nervously.  
  
After a few minutes if chuckling, Hermione couldn't help but ask the question that pressed on her mind the most right now. "Why?"  
  
"This is a little hard for me to say, Hermione, but I suppose you have more of a right than anybody to know." Nudanor began.  
  
Hermione, too, frowned. This was all just a little confusing. What kind of secret would Nudanor have from everyone?  
  
"Hermione, I. Well. I." Nadunor stuttered. Taking a deep breath, he decided to plod on. No use stopping now that he'd gotten so far. "I like you Hermione."  
  
"Well, I like you, too Nudanor. I can't believe how fast we've gotten to be friends," Hermione replied, relieved it wasn't something that was major or that she couldn't handle. But why would Nudanor be afraid to tell her THAT.  
  
"No, Hermione, not like you think. I really LIKE like you," Nudanor corrected nervously, a sinking feeling in his stomach.  
  
"W-what?" Hermione asked incredulously.  
  
"You heard me."  
  
"Nudanor, I"  
  
Hermione's words were cut off by a sudden scrabbling and clanging. "ARRRRRRRRRRRG BLUNKO, NOW YOU'VE GIVEN US AWAY!"  
  
"I'M SORRY, JUBEE, BUT YOU COULD'VE HELD THE BUCKET, TOO!"  
  
In a hectic flurry of brown fur and pink tail, two gigantic rats appeared in front of Hermione and Nudanor, grinning sinisterly, their paws dripping pink paint. The same paint that had been covering the floor in the form of a trail of prints for a whole week.  
  
"You stupid rats, why don't you just take your freak show somewhere else?!" Hermione screamed in their fanged faces.  
  
"Freaks, are we little girl? Well, we'll show you a freak!" the taller rat breathed dangerously, apparently amused. Grabbing the half- empty bucket of paint, he poured the rest of Hermione's head, drenching her in a mess of pink emitting nauseating fumes.  
  
"You leave her alone, you big bullies!" Nudanor cried bravely, jumping up and balling his fists. He raised them in front of himself, apparently attempting to fight the rats off.  
  
Doubling over in peals of repulsive, scratchy laughter, the rats held an obvious conference. "Let's see, Blunko, do we take the Pink Pantherette or the HuffleCREAMpuff?"  
  
"Arrrr, me don't know, Jubee, whatdya think?" the other rat replied amidst a fit of chuckles.  
  
"Since we ain't got no choice but to take one now, the pink one looks like she's about to pass out. GRAB THE CHUBBY ONE!" the other rat commanded, suddenly ceasing the laughter.  
  
Pouncing on Nudanor, it was only a few minutes and a consuming cloud of smoke later that they were completely and utterly gone. A huge, expanding puddle of pink paint and a few scratches on the wall were all that were left to suggest a violent scuffle had taken place.  
  
Coughing and choking, Hermione stumbled down the hallway, away from the emanating smoke cloud. She had to get out of there. She had to go tell everyone what had happened. But the paint was beginning to get to her brain, and she was feeling extremely dizzy. Could she make it?  
  
Every breath was painful, carrying what seemed like a thousand pounds of paint and catching in her throat. She should stop breathing. She only delivered her brain toxic fumes (it was difficult to avoid when paint obviously not sold on a regular, chemical safe market was dripping over your entire head). She closed her mouth, aware that drops of paint being actually ingested would be worse than the fumes. But if she didn't breathe she would suffocate.  
  
Shrugging, Hermione took a deep breath and didn't take another. Either way, she was going to die.  
  
Continuing her struggle down the hallway, Hermione began to feel the effects of oxygen-lack. Her vision became spotted, and everything seemed to swim in and out of focus. Stumbling, she trudged on.  
  
She only took a few more steps before she blacked out and fell to the ground, all the way down the hallway from the paint, smoke, and paw prints.  
  
  
  
A/N: YAAAAY! I FINALLY got it out! I'm really really sorry that it took so long. I finally got a couple of readers that read it frequently, and I ditch them all. And for what? BAND, I tell you, BAND! So if you have any complaints, just march up to my school, go straight to the bandhall, and DEMAND reform in the band system. It would be greatly appreciated. Hehehe. Actually, it's not bad at all. Ok, enough rambling. To make up for my long absence, I've decided to thank you all individually this time. :0).  
  
Ok, here goes:  
  
Kate Lynn: THANKS! No one's ever really said anything about my character depiction except to tell me that Dumbledore was out of character in one of the chapters (I have no idea which one it is, I can't remember that far back!! Lol). I'm glad you like my story, and I'll try to be more punctual with the rest of it.  
  
Hermione radcliffe: Once again, thank-you so much! It means a lot to me that you come back every time and read and review. MAYBE SOME OTHER READERS OUT THERE COULD LEARN FROM YOU ::COUGHCOUGH::!!! Lol. Just kidding. But I really do thank you for reading AGAIN. Ron and Hermione were being mean to Harry because he was being an annoying pest, and they're tired of him being hurt still. Hey, what can I say, it's a long road to recovery (but I sure hope I don't drag it out TOO long!!) I'll write more in my next email.  
  
T. Anti: WOW! I've never gotten a review like THAT before! It really sounds like you put a lot of time and effort into it (and you're a rhymer, too)! Or are you two people? ::Twilight Zone music:: ::Shrug:: Oh, well. I'll be sure to email you now, too, because THE NINTH CHAPTER IS OUT! IT'S OUT IT'S OUT IT'S OUT!!! Don't stop reading and reviewing, your reviews are a TON of fun!!  
  
Crystalite104: Thanks, again! You're one of the handful I look for when I review, you guys just keep coming back! Don't get me wrong, I love the fact that you do!! When I think about you I think about this girl at my school named Crystal, and that's my mental picture I have. Lol. Crazy, I know, you probably look NOTHING like her. But, hey, I can have my mental pictures, can't I? There will be no H/C in this. Well, I THINK there won't. I haven't really thought about it. Should there be? Hmmm, I'll have to think about that. The paw prints just basically started wherever you wanted them to in your imagination! I suppose the most sensible place would be, uuuuuuuummmmmmmm, from the corner of the place where two halls meet. Yeah, yeah, I know, confusing. Oh, well. Thanks!  
  
A/N: Thanks, again, all of you, for being such great reviewers. Come back again!! Lol. Oh, yeah, and I changed Ron's nickname for Hermione to Mione, just because it SOUNDS better than ::shudder:: Herm. Anyways, talk to ya'll later!!  
  
P.S. Fanfiction.net is being a freak and won't comprehend more than one space in-between different sections of a story, hence the appearance of asterisks. Thank-you. 


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